THE  LIBRARY 

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OF  CALIFORNIA 

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FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ERNEST  CARROLL  MOORE 


GEORGE   ELIOT'S    LIFE 


VOL.  I.— UNKNOWN 


5*OUR  FINEST  HOPE  IS  FINEST  MEMOPV' 


GEORGE   ELIOT — 1864. 
Drawn  by  Mr.  Frederic  Burton.— From  an  Etching  by  M.  Paul  Rajo 


pEORGE  ELIOT'S  LIFE 
vJ  as  related  in  her  Letters  and 
Journals 


ARRANGED  AND  EDITED   BY  HER  HUSBAND 

J.  W.  CROSS 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


{N   THREE   VOLUMES.  -VOLUME  I 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  FRANKLIN   SQUARE 


GEORGE   ELIOT'S  WORKS. 


POPULAR  EDITION. 

ADAM  BEDE.     Illustrated.     121110,  Cloth,  75  cents. 

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PUBLISHED  BY  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK. 

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College 
Ltbrar> 

PR 


V.  t 
PREFACE. 


WITH  the  materials  in  my  hands  I  have  endeavored  to 
form  an  autobiography  (if  the  term  may  be  permitted)  of 
George  Eliot.  The  life  has  been  allowed  to  write  itself 
in  extracts  from  her  letters  and  journals.  Free  from  the 
obtrusion  of  any  mind  but  her  own,  this  method  serves,  I 
think,  better  than  any  other  open  to  me,  to  show  the  de- 
velopment of  her  intellect  and  character. 

In  dealing  with  the  correspondence  I  have  been  in- 
fluenced by  the  desire  to  make  known  the  woman,  as  well 
as  the  author,  through  the  presentation  of  her  daily  life. 

On  the  intellectual  side  there  remains  little  to  be 
learned  by  those  who  already  know  George  Eliot's  books. 
In  the  twenty  volumes  which  she  wrote  and  published  in 
her  lifetime  will  be  found  her  best  and  ripest  thoughts. 
The  letters  now  published  throw  light  on  another  side  of 
her  nature — not  less  important,  but  hitherto  unknown  to 
the  public — the  side  of  the  affections. 

The  intimate  life  was  the  core  of  the  root  from  which 
sprung  the  fairest  flowers  of  her  inspiration.  Fame  came 
to  her  late  in  life,  and,  when  it  presented  itself,  was  so 
weighted  with  the  sense  of  responsibility  that  it  was  in 
truth  a  rose  with  many  thorns,  for  George  Eliot  had  the 
temperament  that  shrinks  from  the  position  of  a  public 
character.  The  belief  in  the  wide,  and  I  may  add  in  the 
beneficent,  effect  of  her  writing  was  no  doubt  the  highest 


15SCS7S 


vi  Preface. 

happiness,  the  reward  of  the  artist  which  she  greatly 
cherished :  but  the  joys  of  the  hearthside,  the  delight  in 
the  love  of  her  friends,  were  the  supreme  pleasures  in  her 
life. 

By  arranging  all  the  letters  and  journals  so  as  to  form 
one  connected  whole,  keeping  the  order  of  their  dates, 
and  with  the  least  possible  interruption  of  comment,  I 
have  endeavored  to  combine  a  narrative  of  day-to-day 
life,  with  the  play  of  light  and  shade  which  only  letters, 
written  in  various  moods,  can  give,  and  without  which  no 
portrait  can  be  a  good  likeness.  I  do  not  know  that  the 
particular  method  in  which  I  have  treated  the  letters  has 
ever  been  adopted  before.  Each  letter  has  been  pruned 
of  everything  that  seemed  to  me  irrelevant  to  my  pur- 
pose— of  everything  that  I  thought  my  wife  would  have 
wished  to  be  omitted.  Every  sentence  that  remains  adds, 
in  my  judgment,  something  (however  small  it  may  be)  to 
the  means  of  forming  a  conclusion  about  her  character. 
I  ought  perhaps  to  say  a  word  of  apology  for  what  may 
appear  to  be  undue  detail  of  travelling  experiences ;  but 
I  hope  that  to  many  readers  these  will  be  interesting,  as 
reflected  through  George  Eliot's  mind.  The  remarks  on 
works  of  art  are  only  meant  to  be  records  of  impressions. 
She  would  have  deprecated  for  herself  the  attitude  of  an 
art  critic. 

Excepting  a  slight  introductory  sketch  of  the  girlhood, 
up  to  the  time  when  letters  became  available,  and  a  few 
words  here  and  there  to  elucidate  the  correspondence,  I 
have  confined  myself  to  the  work  of  selection  and  ar- 
rangement. 

I  have  refrained  almost  entirely  from  quoting  remem- 
bered sayings  by  George  Eliot,  because  it  is  difficult  to  be 


Preface.  vii 

certain  of  complete  accuracy,  and  everything  depends 
upon  accuracy.  Recollections  of  conversation  are  seldom 
to  be  implicitly  trusted  in  the  absence  of  notes  made  at 
the  time.  The  value  of  spoken  words  depends,  too,  so 
much  upon  the  tone,  and  on  the  circumstances  which  gave 
rise  to  their  utterance,  that  they  often  mislead  as  much 
as  they  enlighten,  when,  in  the  process  of  repetition,  they 
have  taken  color  from  another  mind.  "  All  interpreta- 
tions depend  upon  the  interpreter,"  and  I  have  judged  it 
best  to  let  George  Eliot  be  her  own  interpreter,  as  far  as 
possible. 

I  owe  thanks  to  Mr.  Isaac  Evans,  the  brother  of  my 
wife,  for  much  of  the  information  in  regard  to  her  child- 
life  ;  and  the  whole  book  is  a  long  record  of  debts  due  to 
other  friends  for  letters.  It  is  not,  therefore,  necessary  for 
me  to  recapitulate  the  list  of  names  in  this  place.  My 
thanks  to  all  are  heartfelt.  But  there  is  a  very  special 
acknowledgment  due  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  to  Mrs.  Bray, 
and  to  the  late  Mr.  Charles  Bray  of  Coventry,  not  only 
for  the  letters  which  they  placed  at  my  disposal,  but  also 
for  much  information  given  to  me  in  the  most  friendly 
spirit.  The  very  important  part  of  the  life  from  1842  to 
1854  could  not  possibly  have  been  written  without  their 
contribution. 

To  Mr.  Charles  Lewes,  also,  I  am  indebted  for  some 
valuable  letters  and  extracts  from  the  journals  of  his 
father,  besides  the  letters  addressed  to  himself.  He  also 
obtained  for  me  an  important  letter  written  by  George 
Eliot  to  Mr.  R.  H.  Hutton ;  and  throughout  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  book  I  have  had  the  advantage  of  his  sympa- 
thetic interest,  and  his  concurrence  in  the  publication  of 
all  the  materials. 


viii  Preface. 

Special  thanks  are  likewise  due  to  Messrs.  Wm.  Black- 
wood  &  Sons  for  having  placed  at  my  disposal  George 
Eliot's  long  correspondence  with  the  firm.  The  letters 
(especially  those  addressed  to  her  friend  the  late  Mr. 
John  Blackwood)  throw  a  light,  that  could  not  otherwise 
have  been  obtained,  on  the  most  interesting  part  of  her 
literary  career. 

To  the  legal  representatives  of  the  late  Charles  Dick- 
ens, of  the  late  Lord  Lytton,  and  of  Mrs.  Carlyle ;  to  Mr. 
J.  A.  Froude,  and  to  Mr.  Archer  Gurney,  I  owe  thanks  for 
leave  to  print  letters  written  by  them. 

For  all  the  defects  that  there  may  be  in  the  plan  of 
these  volumes  I  alone  am  responsible.  The  lines  were 
determined  and  the  work  was  substantially  put  into 
shape  before  I  submitted  the  manuscript  to  any  one. 
While  passing  the  winter  in  the  south  of  France  I  had 
the  good  fortune  at  Cannes  to  find,  in  Lord  Acton,  not 
only  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  George  Eliot,  but  also  a 
friend  always  most  kindly  ready  to  assist  me  with  valua- 
ble counsel  and  with  cordial,  generous  sympathy.  He 
was  the  first  reader  of  the  manuscript,  and  whatever  ac- 
curacy may  have  been  arrived  at,  particularly  in  the 
names  of  foreign  books,  foreign  persons,  and  foreign 
places,  is  in  great  part  due  to  his  friendly,  careful  help. 
But  of  course  he  has  no  responsibility  whatever  for  any 
of  my  sins  of  omission  or  commission. 

By  the  kind  permission  of  Sir  Frederic  Burton,  I  have 
been  enabled  to  reproduce  as  a  frontispiece  M.  Rajon's 
etching  of  the  beautiful  drawing,  executed  in  1864,  now  in 
the  National  Portrait  Gallery,  South  Kensington. 

The  view  of  the  old  house  at  Rosehill  is  from  a  draw- 
ing by  Mrs.  Bray.  It  is  connected  with  some  of  George 


Preface.  ix 

Eliot's  happiest  experiences,  and  with  the  period  of  her 
most  rapid  intellectual  development. 

For  permission  to  use  the  sketch  of  the  drawing-room 
at  the  Priory  I  am  indebted  to  the  Messrs.  Harpers,  of 
New  York. 

In  conclusion,  it  is  in  no  conventional  spirit,  but  from 
my  heart,  that  I  bespeak  the  indulgence  of  readers  for 
my  share  of  this  work.  Of  its  shortcomings  no  one  can 
be  so  convinced  as  I  am  myself. 

J.  W.  C. 

CAMDEN  HILL,  December,  1884. 
As 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I. 


Introductory  Sketch  of  Childhood.  .  .  .        Page     i 

CHAPTER  I. 

AUGUST,  1838,  TO   MARCH,  1841. 

Life  at  Griff.  .......      28 

CHAPTER  II. 

MARCH,  1841,  TO  APRIL,  1846, 

Coventry — Translation  of  Strauss  .  .  .  .  .61 

CHAPTER  III. 

MAY,  1846,  TO  MAT,  1849. 

Life  in  Coventry  till  Mr.  Evans's  Death    ....     106 

CHAPTER  IV. 

JUNE,  1849,  TO  MARCH,  1850. 

Geneva         ......  .  150 

CHAPTER  V. 

MARCH,  1850,  TO  JULY,  1854. 

Work  in  London — Union  with  Mr.  Lewes  .  .  .     181 

CHAPTER  VI. 

JULY,  1854,  TO  MARCH,  1855. 

Germany      ........    239 

CHAPTER  VII. 

MARCH,  1855,  TO  DECEMBER,  1857. 

Richmond — "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life"      ....     273 
APPENDIX  ........    349 


ILLUSTRATIONS   TO   VOL.  I. 


PORTRAIT  OF  GEORGE  ELIOT.    Etched  by 

M.  Rajon Frontispiece, 

GRIFF — FRONT  VIEW To  face  p.     6 

GRIFF — WITH  THE  FARM  OFFICES.    ...  "          12 

HOUSE  IN  FOLESHILL  ROAD,  COVENTRY    .  "         62 

PORTRAIT  OF  MR.  ROBERT  EVANS     ...  "        148 

ROSEHILL  .                     ,    .                 .  "182 


GEORGE   ELIOT'S    LIFE. 


INTRODUCTORY  SKETCH  OF  CHILDHOOD. 

" Nov.  22,  1819. — Mary  Ann  Evans  was  born  at 
Arbury  Farm,1  at  five  o'clock  this  morning." 

This  is  an  entry,  in  Mr.  Robert  Evans's  handwriting, 
on  the  page  of  an  old  diary  that  now  lies  before  me, 
and  records,  with  characteristic  precision,  the  birth  of 
his  youngest  child,  afterwards  known  to  the  world  as 
George  Eliot.  Let  us  pause  for  a  moment  to  pay  its 
due  homage  to  the  precision,  because  it  was  in  all 
probability  to  this  most  noteworthy  quality  of  her  fa- 
ther's nature  that  the  future  author  was  indebted  for 
one  of  the  principal  elements  of  her  own  after-success 
— the  enormous  faculty  for  taking  pains.  The  baby 
was  born  on  St.  Cecilia's  day,  and  Mr.  Evans,  being  a 
good  churchman,  takes  her,  on  the  2Qth  November, 
to  be  baptized  in  the  church  at  Chilvers  Coton — the 
parish  in  which  Arbury  Farm  lies — a  church  destined 
to  impress  itself  strongly  on  the  child's  imagination, 
and  to  be  known  by  many  people  in  many  lands  after- 
wards as  Shepperton  Church.  The  father  was  a  re- 
markable man,  and  many  of  the  leading  traits  in  his 
character  are  to  be  found  in  Adam  Bede  and  in  Caleb 
Garth — although,  of  course,  neither  of  these  is  a  por- 

1  The  farm  is  also  known  as  the  South  Farm,  Arbury. 
I 


2  Father 's  Career.  [GRIFF, 

trait.  He  was  born  in  1773,  at  Ellaston,  in  Stafford- 
shire,  son  of  a  George  Evans,  who  carried  on  the  busi- 
ness of  builder  and  carpenter  there  :  the  Evans  family 
having  come  originally  from  Northop,  in  Flintshire. 
Robert  was  brought  up  to  the  business  ;  but  about 
1799,  or  a  little  before,  he  held  a  farm  of  Mr.  Francis 
Newdigate  at  Kirk  Hallam,  in  Derbyshire,  and  be- 
came his  agent.  On  Sir  Roger  Newdigate's  death 
the  Arbury  estate  came  to  Mr.  Francis  Newdigate  for 
his  life,  and  Mr.  Evans  accompanied  him  into  War- 
wickshire, in  1806,  in  the  capacity  of  agent.  In  1801 
he  had  married  Harriott  Poynton,  by  whom  he  had 
two  children — Robert,  born  1802,  at  Ellaston,  and 
Frances  Lucy,  born  1805,  at  Kirk  Hallam.  His  first 
wife  died  in  91809  >  ar|d  on  8th  February,  1813,  he 
married  Christiana  Pearson,  by  whom  he  had  three 
children — Christiana,  born  1814  ;  Isaac,  born  1816, 
and  Mary  Ann,  born  1819.  Shortly  after  the  last 
child's  birth,  Robert,  the  son,  became  the  agent,  under 
his  father,  for  the  Kirk  Hallam  property,  and  lived 
there  with  his  sister  Frances,  who  afterwards  married 
a  Mr.  Houghton.  In  March,  1820,  when  the  baby 
girl  was  only  four  months  old,  the  Evans  family  re- 
moved to  Griff,  a  charming  red  -  brick,  ivy-covered 
house  on  the  Arbury  estate — "  the  warm  little  nest 
where  her  affections  were  fledged  " — and  there  George 
Eliot  spent  the  first  twenty-one  years  of  her  life. 

Let  us  remember  what  the  England  was  upon 
which  this  observant  child  opened  her  eyes. 

The  date  of  her  birth  was  removed  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  French  Revolution  by  just  the  same  period 
of  time  as  separates  a  child,  born  this  year,  1884,  from 
the  beginning  of  the  Crimean  War.  To  a  man  of 
forty-six  to-day,  the  latter  event  seems  but  of  yester> 


i8ig.]  Recollections  of  Father.  3 

day.  It  took  place  at  a  very  impressionable  period 
of  his  life,  and  the  remembrance  of  every  detail  is  per- 
fectly vivid.  Mr.  Evans  was  forty-six  when  his  young- 
est child  was  born.  He  was  a  youth  of  sixteen  when 
the  Revolution  began,  and  that  mighty  event,  with  all 
its  consequences,  had  left  an  indelible  impression  on 
him,  and  the  convictions  and  conclusions  it  had  fos- 
tered in  his  mind  permeated  through  to  his  children, 
and  entered  as  an  indestructible  element  into  the 
susceptible  soul  of  his  youngest  daughter.  There  are 
bits  in  the  paper  "Looking  Backward,"  in  "Theo- 
phrastus  Such,"  which  are  true  autobiography, 

"  In  my  earliest  remembrance  of  my  father  n^s  hair 
was  already  gray,  for  I  was  his  youngest  child,  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  advanced  age  was  appropriate  to 
a  father,  as,  indeed,  in  all  respects  I  considered  him  a 
parent  so  much  to  my  honor  that  the  mention  of  my 
relationship  to  him  was  likely  to  secure  me  regard 
among  those  to  whom  I  was  otherwise  a  stranger — 
his  stories  from  his  life  including  so  many  names  of 
distant  persons  that  my  imagination  placed  no  limit 
to  his  acquaintanceship.  .  .  .  Nor  can  I  be  sorry, 
though  myself  given  to  meditative  if  not  active  inno- 
vation, that  my  father  was  a  Tory  who  had  not  exactly 
a  dislike  to  innovators  and  dissenters,  but  a  slight 
opinion  of  them  as  persons  of  ill-founded  self-con- 
fidence. .  .  .  And  I  often  smile  at  my  consciousness 
that  certain  Conservative  prepossessions  have  mingled 
themselves  for  me  with  the  influences  of  our  Midland 
scenery,  from  the  tops  of  the  elms  down  to  the  but- 
tercups and  the  little  wayside  vetches.  Naturally 
enough.  That  part  of  my  father's  prime  to  which  he 
oftenest  referred  had  fallen  on  the  days  when  the 
great  wave  of  political  enthusiasm  and  belief  in  a 


4  Influence  of  Father's  Ideas.          [GRIFF, 

speedy  regeneration  of  all  things  had  ebbed,  and  the 
supposed  millennial  initiative  of  France  was  turning 
into  a  Napoleonic  empire.  ...  To  my  father's  mind 
the  noisy  teachers  of  revolutionary  doctrine  were,  to 
speak  mildly,  a  variable  mixture  of  the  fool  and  the 
scoundrel ;  the  welfare  of  the  nation  lay  in  a  strong 
government  which  could  maintain  order  •  and  I  was 
accustomed  to  hear  him  utter  the  word  'government' 
in  a  tone  that  charged  it  with  awe,  and  made  it  part 
of  my  effective  religion,  in  contrast  with  the  word 
'rebel,'  which  seemed  to  carry  the  stamp  of  evil  in 
its  syllables,  and,  lit  by  the  fact  that  Satan  was  the 
first  rebel,  made  an  argument  dispensing  with  more 
detailed  inquiry." 

This  early  association  of  ideas  must  always  be  borne 
in  mind,  as  it  is  the  key  to  a  great  deal  in  the  mental 
attitude  of  the  future  thinker  and  writer.  It  is  the 
foundation  of  the  latent  Conservative  bias. 

The  year  1819  is  memorable  as  a  culminating  period 
of  bad  times  and  political  discontent  in  England.  The 
nation  was  suffering  acutely  from  the  reaction  after 
the  excitement  of  the  last  Napoleonic  war.  George  IV. 
did  not  come  to  the  throne  till  January,  1820,  so  that 
George  Eliot  was  born  in  the  reign  of  George  III. 
The  trial  of  Queen  Caroline  was  the  topic  of  absorb- 
ing public  interest.  Waterloo  was  not  yet  an  affair  of 
five  years  old.  Byron  had  four  years,  and  Goethe  had 
thirteen  years,  still  to  live.  The  last  of  Miss  Auslen's 
novels  had  been  published  only  eighteen  months,  and 
the  first  of  the  Waverley  series  only  six  years  before. 
Thackeray  and  Dickens  were  boys  at  school,  and 
George  Sand,  as  a  girl  of  fifteen,  was  leaving  her  loved 
freedom  on  the  banks  of  the  Indre  for  the  Convent 
des  Anglaises  at  Paris.  That "  Greater  Britain  "  (Can a- 


Remoteness  of  Country  Districts.  5 

da  and  Australia),  which  to-day  forms  so  large  a  read- 
ing public,  was  then  scarcely  more  than  a  geographical 
expression,  with  less  than  half  a  million  of  inhabitants, 
all  told,  where  at  present  there  are  eight  millions ;  and 
in  the  United  States,  where  more  copies  of  George 
Eliot's  books  are  now  sold  than  in  any  other  quarter 
of  the  world,  the  population  then  numbered  less  than 
ten  millions  where  to-day  it  is  fifty-five  millions.  In- 
cluding Great  Britain,  these  English-speaking  races 
have  increased  from  thirty  millions  in  1820  to  one  hun- 
dred millions  in  1884 ;  and  with  the  corresponding  in- 
crease in  education  we  can  form  some  conception  how 
a  popular  English  writer's  fame  has  widened  its  circle. 
There  was  a  remoteness  about  a  detached  country- 
house,  in  the  England  of  those  days,  difficult  for  us  to 
conceive  now,  with  our  railways,  penny-post,  and  tele- 
graphs ;  nor  is  the  Warwickshire  country  about  Griff 
an  exhilarating  surrounding.  There  are  neither  hills 
nor  vales,  no  rivers,  lakes,  or  sea — nothing  but  a  mo- 
notonous succession  of  green  fields  and  hedgerows, 
with  some  fine  trees.  The  only  water  to  be  seen  is 
the  "brown  canal."  The  effect  of  such  a  landscape 
on  an  ordinary  observer  is  not  inspiring,  but  "  effec- 
tive magic  is  transcendent  nature ;"  and  with  her  tran- 
scendent nature  George  Eliot  has  transfigured  these 
scenes,  dear  to  Midland  souls,  into  many  an  idyllic 
picture,  known  to  those  who  know  her  books.  In  her 
childhood  the  great  event  of  the  day  was  the  passing 
of  the  coach  before  the  gate  of  Griff  House,  which  lies 
at  a  bend  of  the  high-road  between  Coventry  and 
Nuneaton,  and  within  a  couple  of  miles  of  the  mining 
village  of  Bedworth,  "  where  the  land  began  to  be 
blackened  with  coal-pits,  the  rattle  of  hand-looms 
to  be  heard  in  hamlets  and  villages.  Here  were 


6  Manufacturing  Region.  [GRIFF, 

powerful  men  walking  queerly,  with  knees  bent  out- 
ward from  squatting  in  the  mine,  going  home  to  throw 
themselves  clown  in  their  blackened  flannel  and  sleep 
through  the  daylight,  then  rise  and  spend  much  of 
their  high  wages  at  the  alehouse  with  their  fellows  of 
the  Benefit  Club  ;  here  the  pale,  eager  faces  of  hand- 
loom  weavers,  men  and  women,  haggard  from  sitting 
up  late  at  night  to  finish  the  week's  work,  hardly  be- 
gun till  the  Wednesday.  Everywhere  the  cottages  and 
the  small  children  were  dirty,  for  the  languid  mothers 
gave  their  strength  to  the  loom ;  pious  Dissenting 
women,  perhaps,  who  took  life  patiently,  and  thought 
that  salvation  depended  chiefly  on  predestination,  and 
not  at  all  on  cleanliness.  The  gables  of  Dissenting 
chapels  now  made  a  visible  sign  of  religion,  and  of 
a  meeting-place  to  counterbalance  the  alehouse,  even 
in  the  hamlets.  .  .  .  Here  was  a  population  not  con- 
vinced that  old  England  was  as  good  as  possible  ; 
here  were  multitudinous  men  and  women  aware  that 
their  religion  was  not  exactly  the  religion  of  their 
rulers,  who  might  therefore  be  better  than  they  were, 
and  who,  if  better,  might  alter  many  things  which 
now  made  the  world  perhaps  more  painful  than  it 
need  be,  and  certainly  more  sinful.  Yet  there  were 
the  gray  steeples  too,  and  the  churchyards,  with  their 
grassy  mounds  and  venerable  headstones,  sleeping 
in  the  sunlight ;  there  were  broad  fields  and  home- 
steads, and  fine  old  woods  covering  a  rising  ground, 
or  stretching  far  by  the  roadside,  allowing  only  peeps 
at  the  park  and  mansion  which  they  shut  in  from  the 
working-day  world.  In  these  midland  districts  the 
traveller  passed  rapidly  from  one  phase  of  English  life 
to  another  ;  after  looking  down  on  a  village  dingy  with 
coal-dust,  noisy  with  the  shaking  of  looms,  he  might 


1823.]  Coaching  Days.  7 

skirt  a  parish  all  of  fields,  high  hedges,  and  deep-rutted 
lanes ;  after  the  coach  had  rattled  over  the  pavement 
of  a  manufacturing  town,  the  scene  of  riots  and  trades- 
union  meetings,  it  would  take  him  in  another  ten  min- 
utes into  a  rural  region,  where  the  neighborhood  of  the 
town  was  only  felt  in  the  advantages  of  a  near  market 
for  corn,  cheese,  and  hay,  and  where  men  with  a  con- 
siderable banking  account  were  accustomed  to  say  that 
'they  never  meddled  with  politics  themselves.'  "  ' 

We  can  imagine  the  excitement  of  a  little  four-year- 
old  girl  and  her  seven-year-old  brother  waiting,  on 
bright  frosty  mornings,  to  hear  the  far-off  ringing  beat 
of  the  horses'  feet  upon  the  hard  ground,  and  then  to 
see  the  gallant  appearance  of  the  four  grays,  with 
coachman  and  guard  in  scarlet,  outside  passengers 
muffled  up  in  furs,  and  baskets  of  game  and  other 
packages  hanging  behind  the  boot,  as  his  majesty's 
mail  swung  cheerily  round  on  its  way  from  Birming- 
ham to  Stamford.  Two  coaches  passed  the  door  daily 
— one  from  Birmingham  at  10  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
the  other  from  Stamford  at  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 
These  were  the  chief  connecting  links  between  the 
household  at  Griff  and  the  outside  world.  Otherwise 
life  went  on  with  that  monotonous  regularity  which 
distinguishes  the  country  from  the  town.  And  it  is  to 
these  circumstances  of  her  early  life  that  a  great  part 
of  the  quality  of  George  Eliot's  writing  is  due,  and 
that  she  holds  the*  place  she  has  attained  in  English 
literature.  Her  roots  were  down  in  the  pre-railroad, 
pre-telegraphic  period — the  days  of  fine  old  leisure — • 
but  the  fruit  was  formed  during  an  era  of  extraordinary 
activity  in  scientific  and  mechanical  discovery.  Her 

1 " Felix  Holt"— Introduction. 


8  Father 's  Position.  [GRIFF, 

genius  was  the  outcome  of  these  conditions.  It  would 
not  have  existed  in  the  same  form  deprived  of  either 
influence.  Her  father  was  busy  both  with  his  own  farm- 
work  and  increasing  agency  business.  He  was  already 
remarked  in  Warwickshire  for  his  knowledge  and  judg- 
ment in  all  matters  relating  to  land,  and  for  his  gen- 
eral trustworthiness  and  high  character,  so  that  he  was 
constantly  selected  as  arbitrator  and  valuer.  He  had  a 
wonderful  eye,  especially  for  valuing  woods,  and  could 
calculate  with  almost  absolute  precision  the  quantity 
of  available  timber  in  a  standing  tree.  In  addition  to 
his  merits  as  a  man  of  business,  he  had  the  good  fort- 
une to  possess  the  warm  friendship  and  consistent 
support  of  Colonel  Newdigate  of  Astley  Castle,  son  of 
Mr.  Francis  Newdigate  of  Arbury,  and  it  was  mainly 
through  the  colonel's  introduction  and  influence  that 
Mr.  Evans  became  agent  also  to  Lord  Aylesford,  Lord 
Lifford,  Mr.  Bromley  Davenport,  and  several  others. 

His  position  cannot  be  better  summed  up  than  in 
the  words  of  his  daughter,  writing  to  Mr.  Bray  on  3oth 
September,  1859,  in  regard  to  some  one  who  had  writ- 
ten of  her,  after  the  appearance  of  "  Adam  Bede,"  as 
a  "self-educated  farmer's  daughter." 

"  My  father  did  not  raise  himself  from  being  an  arti- 
san to  be  a  farmer ;  he  raised  himself  from  being  an 
artisan  to  be  a  man  whose  extensive  knowledge  in  very 
varied  practical  departments  made  his  services  valued 
through  several  counties.  He  had+arge  knowledge  of 
building,  of  mines,  of  plantations,  of  various  branches 
of  valuation  and  measurement — of  all  that  is  essential 
to  the  management  of  large  estates.  He  was  held  by 
those  competent  to  judge  as  unique  among  land-agents 
for  his  manifold  knowledge  and  experience,  which  en- 
abled him  to  save  the  special  fees  usually  paid  by  land- 


1823.]  Mother 's  Family.  9 

owners  for  special  opinions  on  the  different  questions 
incident  to  the  proprietorship  of  land.  So  far  as  I  am 
personally  concerned  I  should  not  write  a  stroke  to 
prevent  any  one,  in  the  zeal  of  antithetic  eloquence, 
from  calling  me  a  tinker's  daughter ;  but  if  my  father 
is  to  be  mentioned  at  all — if  he  is  to  be  identified  with 
an  imaginary  character — my  piety  towards  his  memory 
calls  on  me  to  point  out  to  those  who  are  supposed  to 
speak  with  information  what  he  really  achieved  in  life." 

Mr.  Evans  was  also,  like  Adam  Bede,  noteworthy 
for  his  extraordinary  physical  strength  and  determina- 
tion of  character.  There  is  a  story  told  of  him,  that 
one  day  when  he  was  travelling  on  the  top  of  a  coach, 
down  in  Kent,  a  decent  woman  sitting  next  him  com- 
plained that  a  great  hulking  sailor  on  her  other  side 
was  making  himself  offensive.  Mr.  Evans  changed 
places  with  the  woman,  and,  taking  the  sailor  by  the 
collar,  forced  him  down  under  the  seat,  and  held  him 
there  with  an  iron  hand  for  the  remainder  of  the  stage: 
and  at  Griffit  is  still  remembered  that  the  master,  hap- 
pening to  pass  one  day  while  a  couple  of  laborers  were 
waiting  for  a  third  to  help  to  move  the  high,  heavy 
ladder  used  for  thatching  ricks,  braced  himself  up  to 
a  great  effort,  and  carried  the  ladder  alone  and  unaid- 
ed from  one  rick  to  the  other,  to  the  wide-eyed  wonder 
and  admiration  of  his  men.  With  all  this  strength, 
however,  both  of  body  and  of  character,  he  seems  to 
have  combined  a  certain  self-distrust,  owing,  perhaps, 
to  his  early  imperfect  education,  which  resulted  in  a 
general  submissiveness  in  his  domestic  relations,  more 
or  less  portrayed  in  the  character  of  Mr.  Garth. 

His  second  wife  was  a  woman  with  an  unusual 
amount  of  natural  force  ;  a  shrewd,  practical  person, 
with  a  considerable  dash  of  the  Mrs.  Poyser  vein  in 
i* 


io  Dames  School.  [GRIFF, 

her.  Hers  was  an  affectionate,  warm-hearted  nature, 
and  her  children,  on  whom  she  cast  "  the  benediction 
of  her  gaze,"  were  thoroughly  attached  to  her.  She 
came  of  a  race  of  yeomen,  and  her  social  position  was, 
therefore,  rather  better  than  her  husband's  at  the  time 
of  their  marriage.  Her  family  are,  no  doubt,  proto- 
types of  the  Dodsons  in  the  "  Mill  on  the  Floss." 
There  were  three  other  sisters  married,  and  all  living 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Griff — Mrs.  Everard,  Mrs. 
Johnson,  and  Mrs.  Garner — and  probably  Mr.  Evans 
heard  a  good  deal  about  "the  traditions  in  the  Pear- 
son family."  Mrs.  Evans  was  a  very  active,  hard-work- 
ing woman,  but  shortly  after  her  last  child's  birth  she 
became  ailing  in  health,  and  consequently  her  eldest 
girl,  Christiana,  was  sent  to  school,  at  a  very  early  age, 
to  Miss  Lathom's,  at  Attleboro,  a  village  a  mile  or  two 
from  Griff,  while  the  two  younger  children  spent  some 
part  of  their  time  every  day  at  the  cottage  of  a  Mrs. 
Moore,  who  kept  a  dame's  school  close  to  Griff  gates. 
The  little  girl  very  early  became  possessed  with  the 
idea  that  she  was  going  to  be  a  personage  in  the  world ; 
and  Mr.  Charles  Lewes  has  told  me  an  anecdote  which 
George  Eliot  related  of  herself  as  characteristic  of  this 
period  of  her  childhood.  When  she  was  only  four 
years  old  she  recollected  playing  on  the  piano,  of 
which  she  did  not  know  one  note,  in  order  to  impress 
the  servant  with  a  proper  notion  of  her  acquirements 
and  generally  distinguished  position.  This  was  the 
time  when  the  love  for  her  brother  grew  into  the 
child's  affections.  She  used  always  to  be  at  his  heels, 
insisting  on  doing  everything  he  did.  She  was  not,  in 
these  baby-days,  in  the  least  precocious  in  learning. 
In  fact,  her  half-sister,  Mrs.  Houghton,  who  was  some 
fourteen  years  her  senior,  told  me  that  the  child  learned 


1824.]     Miss  Lat horns  School  at  Attleboro.         n 

to  read  with  some  difficulty  ;  but  Mr.  Isaac  Evans  says 
that  this  was  not  from  any  slowness  in  apprehension, 
but  because  she  liked  playing  so  much  better.  Mere 
sharpness,  however,  was  not  a  characteristic  of  her 
mind.  Hers  was  a  large,  slow-growing  nature ;  and  I 
think  it  is,  at  any  rate,  certain  that  there  was  nothing 
of  the  infant  phenomenon  about  her.  In  her  moral 
development  she  showed,  from  the  earliest  years,  the 
trait  that  was  most  marked  in  her  all  through  life, 
namely,  the  absolute  need  of  some  one  person  who 
should  be  all  in  all  to  her,  and  to  whom  she  should  be 
all  in  all.  Very  jealous  in  her  affections,  and  easily 
moved  to  smiles  or  tears,  she  was  of  a  nature  capable 
of  the  keenest  enjoyment  and  the  keenest  suffering, 
knowing  "  all  the  wealth  and  all  the  woe  "  of  a  pre- 
eminently exclusive  disposition.  She  was  affection- 
ate, proud,  and  sensitive  in  the  highest  degree. 

The  sort  of  happiness  that  belongs  to  this  budding- 
time  of  life,  from  the  age  of  three  to  five,  is  apt  to  im- 
press itself  very  strongly  on  the  memory;  and  it  is  this 
period  which  is  referred  to  in  the  Brother  and  Sister 
Sonnet,  "  But  were  another  childhood's  world  my  share, 
I  would  be  born  a  little  sister  there."  When  her  broth- 
er was  eight  years  old  he  was  sent  to  school  at  Coven- 
try, and,  her  mother  continuing  in  very  delicate  health, 
the  little  Mary  Ann,  now  five  years  of  age,  went  to 
join  her  sister  at  Miss  Lathom's  school,  at  Attleboro, 
where  they  continued  as  boarders  for  three  or  four 
years,  coming,  occasionally,  home  to  Griffon  Saturdays. 
During  one  of  our  walks  at  Witley,  in  1880,  my  wife 
mentioned  to  me  that  what  chiefly  remained  in  her 
recollection  about  this  very  early  school-life  was  the 
difficulty  of  getting  near  enough  the  fire  in  winter  to 
become  thoroughly  warmed,  owing  to  the  circle  of  girls 


12  Home  Life.  [GRIFF, 

forming  round  too  narrow  a  fireplace.  This  suffering 
from  cold  was  the  beginning  of  a  low  general  state  of 
health;  also  at  this  time  she  began  to  be  subject  to 
fears  at  night — "the  susceptibility  to  terror" — which 
she  has  described  as  haunting  Gwendolen  Harleth  in 
her  childhood.  The  other  girls  in  the  school,  who 
were  all,  naturally,  very  much  older,  made  a  great  pet 
of  the  child,  and  used  to  call  her  "  little  mamma,"  and 
she  was  not  unhappy  except  at  nights ;  but  she  told 
me  that  this  liability  to  have  "  all  her  soul  become  a 
quivering  fear,"  which  remained  with  her  afterwards, 
had  been  one  of  the  supremely  important  influences 
dominating  at  times  her  future  life.  Mr.  Isaac  Ev- 
ans's chief  recollection  of  this  period  is  the  delight  of 
the  little  sister  at  his  home-coming  for  holidays,  and 
her  anxiety  to  know  all  that  he  had  been  doing  and 
learning.  The  eldest  child,  who  went  by  the  name  of 
Chrissey,  was  the  chief  favorite  of  the  aunts,  as  she 
was  always  neat  and  tidy,  and  used  to  spend  a  great 
deal  of  her  time  with  them,  while  the  other  two  were 
inseparable  playfellows  at  home.  The  boy  was  his 
mother's  pet  and  the  girl  her  father's.  They  had  ev- 
erything to  make  children  happy  at  Griff — a  delightful 
old-fashioned  garden,  a  pond  and  the  canal  to  fish  in, 
and  the  farm-offices  close  to  the  house,  "the  long  cow- 
shed, where  generations  of  the  milky  mothers  have 
stood  patiently,  the  broad-shouldered  barns,  where  the 
old-fashioned  flail  once  made  resonant  music,"  and 
where  butter-making  and  cheese-making  were  carried 
on  with  great  vigor  by  Mrs.  Evans. 

Any  one,  about  this  time,  who  happened  to  look 
through  the  window  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  door 
of  Griff  House  would  have  seen  a  pretty  picture  in 
the  dining-room  on  Saturday  evenings  after  tea.  The 


1824.]  Earliest  Reading.  13 

powerful,  middle-aged  man  with  the  strongly  marked 
features  sits  in  his  deep,  leather-covered  arm-chair,  at 
the  right-hand  corner  of  the  ruddy  fireplace,  with  the 
head  of  "  the  little  wench  "  between  his  knees.  The 
child  turns  over  the  book  with  pictures  that  she  wishes 
her  father  to  explain  to  her — or  that  perhaps  she  pre- 
fers explaining  to  him.  Her  rebellious  hair  is  all  over 
her  eyes,  much  vexing  the  pale,  energetic  mother  who 
sits  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fire,  cumbered  with 
much  service,  letting  no  instant  of  time  escape  the  in- 
evitable click  of  the  knitting-needles,  accompanied  by 
epigrammatic  speech.  The  elder  girl,  prim  and  tidy, 
with  her  work  before  her,  is  by  her  mother's  side  ;  and 
the  brother,  between  the  two  groups,  keeps  assuring 
himself  by  perpetual  search  that  none  of  his  favorite 
means  of  amusement  are  escaping  from  his  pockets. 
The  father  is  already  very  proud  of  the  astonishing  and 
growing  intelligence  of  his  little  girl.  From  a  very 
early  age  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of  taking  her  with 
him  in  his  drives  about  the  neighborhood,  "standing 
between  her  father's  knees  as  he  drove  leisurely,"  so 
that  she  has  drunk  in  knowledge  of  the  country  and 
of  country  folk  at  all  her  pores.  An  old-fashioned 
child,  already  living  in  a  world  of  her  own  imagina- 
tion, impressible  to  her  finger-tips,  and  willing  to  give 
her  views  on  any  subject. 

The  first  book  that  George  Eliot  read,  so  far  as  I 
have  been  able  to  ascertain,  was  a  little  volume  pub- 
lished in  1822,  entitled  "The  Linnet's  Life,"  which  she 
gave  to  me  in  the  last  year  of  her  life,  at  Witley.  It 
bears  the  following  inscription,  written  some  time  before 
she  gave  it  to  me : 

"  This  little  book  is  the  first  present  I  ever  remem- 
ber having  received  from  my  father.  Let  any  one  who 


14  Earliest  Reading.  [GRIFF, 

thinks  of  me  with  some  tenderness  after  I  am  dead 
take  care  of  this  book  for  my  sake.  It  made  me  very 
happy  when  I  held  it  in  my  little  hands,  and  read  it 
over  and  over  again ;  and  thought  the  pictures  beauti- 
ful, especially  the  one  where  the  linnet  is  feeding  her 
young." 

It  must,  I  think,  have  been  very  shortly  after  she 
received  this  present  that  an  old  friend  of  the  family, 
who  was  in  the  habit  of  coming  as  a  visitor  to  Griff 
from  time  to  time,  used  occasionally  to  bring  a  book 
in  his  hand  for  the  little  girl.  I  very  well  remember 
her  expressing  to  me  deep  gratitude  for  this  early  min- 
istration to  her  childish  delights  ;  and  Mr.  Burne  Jones 
has  been  kind  enough  to  tell  me  of  a  conversation 
with  George  Eliot  about  children's  books,  when  she 
also  referred  to  this  old  gentleman's  kindness.  They 
were  agreeing  in  disparagement  of  some  of  the  books 
that  the  rising  generation  take  their  pleasure  in,  and 
she  recalled  the  dearth  of  child-literature  in  her  own 
home,  and  her  passionate  delight  and  total  absorption 
in  ^Esop's  Fables  (given  to  her  by  the  aforesaid  old 
gentleman),  the  possession  of  which  had  opened  new 
worlds  to  her  imagination.  Mr.  Burne  Jones  particu- 
larly remembers  how  she  laughed  till  the  tears  ran 
down  her  face  in  recalling  her  infantine  enjoyment  of 
the  humor  in  the  fable  of  Mercury  and  the  Statue- 
seller.  Having  so  few  books  at  this  time,  she  read 
them  again  and  again,  until  she  knew  them  by  heart. 
One  of  them  was  a  Joe  Miller  jest-book,  with  the  sto- 
ries from  which  she  used  greatly  to  astonish  the  family 
circle.  But  the  beginning  of  her  serious  reading-days 
did  not  come  till  later.  Meantime  her  talent  for  ob- 
servation gained  a  glorious  new  field  for  employment 
in  her  first  journey  from  home,  which  took  place  in 


1826.]    Miss  Wallingtoris  School  at  Nuneaton.     15 

1826.  Her  father  and  mother  took  her  with  them  on 
a  little  trip  into  Derbyshire  and  Staffordshire,  where 
she  saw  Mr.  Evans's  relations,  and  they  came  back 
through  Lichfield,  sleeping  at  the  Swan.1  They  were 
away  only  a  week,  from  the  i8th  to  the  24th  of  May; 
but  "  what  time  is  little  "  to  an  imaginative,  observant 
child  of  seven  on  her  first  journey  ?  About  this  time 
a  deeply  felt  crisis  occurred  in  her  life,  as  her  brother 
had  a  pony  given  to  him,  to  which  he  became  passion- 
ately attached.  He  developed  an  absorbing  interest 
in  riding,  and  cared  less  and  less  to  play  with  his  sis- 
ter. The  next  important  event  happened  in  her  eighth 
or  ninth  year,  when  she  was  sent  to  Miss  Wellington's 
school  at  Nuneaton  with  her  sister.  This  was  a  much 
larger  school  than  Miss  Lathom's,  there  being  some 
thirty  girls,  boarders.  The  principal  governess  was 
Miss  Lewis,  who  became  then,  and  remained  for  many 
years  after,  Mary  Ann  Evans's  most  intimate  friend 
and  principal  correspondent,  and  I  am  indebted  to  the 
letters  addressed  to  her  from  1836  to  1842  for  most 
of  the  information  concerning  that  period.  Books 
now  became  a  passion  with  the  child ;  she  read  every- 
thing she  could  lay  hands  on,  greatly  troubling  the 
soul  of  her  mother  by  the  consumption  of  candles  as 
well  as  of  eyesight  in  her  bedroom.  From  a  subse- 
quent letter  it  will  be  seen  that  she  was  "early  sup- 
plied with  works  of  fiction  by  those  who  kindly  sought 
to  gratify  her  appetite  for  reading." 

It  must  have  been  about  this  time  that  the  episode 
occurred  in  relation  to  "Waverley"  which  is  men- 
tioned by  Miss  Simcox  in  her  article  in  the  June,  1881, 
number  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  Review.  It  was 

1  See  vol.  ii.  p.  96. 


1 6  Writes  out  "Waver ley"  [GRIFF, 

quite  new  to  me,  and,  as  it  is  very  interesting,  I  give 
it  in  Miss  Simcox's  own  words:  "Somewhere  about 
1827  a  friendly  neighbor  lent  '  Waverley'  to  an  elder 
sister  of  little  Mary  Ann  Evans.  It  was  returned  be- 
fore the  child  had  read  to  the  end,  and,  in  her  distress 
at  the  loss  of  the  fascinating  volume,  she  began  to 
write  out  the  story  as  far  as  she  had  read  it  for  herself, 
beginning  naturally  where  the  story  begins  with  Waver- 
ley's  adventures  at  Tully  Veolan,  and  continuing  until 
the  surprised  elders  were  moved  to  get  her  the  book 
again."  Miss  Simcox  has  pointed  out  the  reference 
to  this  in  the  motto  of  the  57th  chapter  of  "Middle 
march :" 

"  They  numbered  scarce  eight  summers  when  a  name 

Rose  on  their  souls  and  stirred  such  motions  there 
As  thrill  the  buds  and  shape  their  hidden  frame 

At  penetration  of  the  quickening  air: 
His  name  who  told  of  loyal  Evan  Dhu, 

Of  quaint  Bradwardine,  and  Vich  Ian  Vor, 
Making  the  little  world  their  childhood  knew 

Large  with  a  land  of  mountain,  lake,  and  scaur, 
And  larger  yet  with  wonder,  love,  belief 

Towards  Walter  Scott,  who,  living  far  away, 
Sent  them  this  wealth  of  joy  and  noble  grief. 
The  book  and  they  must  part,  but,  day  by  day, 
In  lines  that  thwart  like  portly  spiders  ran, 
They  wrote  the  tale,  from  Tully  Veolan." 

Miss  Simcox  also  mentions  that  "  Elia  divided  her 
childish  allegiance  with  Scott,  and  she  remembered 
feasting  with  singular  pleasure  upon  an  extract  in  some 
stray  almanac  from  the  essay  in  commemoration  of 
'  Captain  Jackson  and  his  slender  ration  of  Single 
Gloucester.'  This  is  an  extreme  example  of  the  gen- 
eral rule  that  a  wise  child's  taste  in  literature  is  sounder 
than  adults  generally  venture  to  believe." 


1827.]     Miss  Franklins  School  at  Coventry.        17 

We  know,  too,  from  the  "  Mill  on  the  Floss  "  that  the 
"  History  of  the  Devil,"  by  Daniel  Defoe,  was  a  favor- 
ite. The  book  is  still  religiously  preserved  at  Griff, 
with  its  pictures  just  as  Maggie  looked  at  them.  "The 
Pilgrim's  Progress,"  also,  and  "  Rasselas  "  had  a  large 
share  of  her  affections. 

At  Miss  Wellington's  the  growing  girl  soon  distin- 
guished herself  by  an  easy  mastery  of  the  usual  school- 
learning  of  her  years,  and  there,  too,  the  religious  side 
of  her  nature  was  developed  to  a  remarkable  degree. 
Miss  Lewis  was  an  ardent  Evangelical  Churchvvoman, 
and  exerted  a  strong  influence  on  her  young  pupil, 
whom  she  found  very  sympathetically  inclined.  But 
Mary  Ann  Evans  did  not  associate  freely  with  her 
schoolfellows,  and  her  friendship  with  Miss  Lewis  was 
the  only  intimacy  she  indulged  in. 

On  coming  home  for  their  holidays  the  sister  and 
brother  began,  about  this  time,  the  habit  of  acting 
charades  together  before  the  Griff  household  and  the 
aunts,  who  were  greatly  impressed  with  the  cleverness 
of  the  performance ;  and  the  girl  was  now  recognized 
in  the  family  circle  as  no  ordinary  child. 

Another  epoch  presently  succeeded,  on  her  removal 
to  Miss  Franklin's  school  at  Coventry,  in  her  thirteenth 
year.  She  was  probably  then  very  much  what  she  has 
described  her  own  Maggie  at  the  age  of  thirteen  : 

"  A  creature  full  of  eager,  passionate  longings  for 
all  that  was  beautiful  and  glad;  thirsty  for  all  knowl- 
edge; with  an  ear  straining  after  dreamy  music  that 
died  away  and  would  not  come  near  to  her ;  with  a 
blind,  unconscious  yearning  for  something  that  would 
link  together  the  wonderful  impressions  of  this  myste- 
rious life,  and  give  her  soul  a  sense  of  home  in  it.  No 
wonder,  when  there  is  this  contrast  between  the  out- 


1 8  Excels  her  Schoolfellows.  [GRIFF, 

ward  and  the  inward,  that  painful  collisions  come  of 
it." 

In  Our  Times  of  June,  1881,  there  is  a  paper  by 
a  lady  whose  mother  was  at  school  with  Mary  Ann 
Evans,  which  gives  some  interesting  particulars  of  the 
Miss  Franklins. 

"  They  were  daughters  of  a  Baptist  minister  who 
had  preached  for  many  years  in  Coventry,  and  who 
inhabited,  during  his  pastorate,  a  house  in  the  chapel- 
yard  almost  exactly  resembling  that  of  Rufus  Lyon 
in  'Felix  Holt.'  For  this  venerable  gentleman  Miss 
Evans,  as  a  schoolgirl,  had  a  great  admiration,  and  I, 
who  can  remember  him  well,  can  trace  in  Rufus  Lyon 
himself  many  slight  resemblances,  such  as  the  '  little 
legs,'  and  the  habit  of  walking  up  and  down  when 
composing.  Miss  Rebecca  Franklin  was  a  lady  of 
considerable  intellectual  power,  and  remarkable  for 
her  elegance  in  writing  and  conversation,  as  well  as 
for  her  beautiful  calligraphy.  In  her  classes  for  Eng- 
lish Composition  Mary  Ann  Evans  was,  from  her  first 
entering  the  school,  far  in  advance  of  the  rest;  and 
while  the  themes  of  the  other  children  were  read,  criti- 
cised, and  corrected  in  class,  hers  were  reserved  for 
the  private  perusal  and  enjoyment  of  the  teacher,  who 
rarely  found  anything  to  correct.  Her  enthusiasm  for 
music  was  already  very  strongly  marked,  and  her  music- 
master,  a  much-tried  man,  suffering  from  the  irritability 
incident  to  his  profession,  reckoned  on  his  hour  with 
her  as  a  refreshment  to  his  wearied  nerves,  and  soon 
had  to  confess  that  he  had  no  more  to  teach  her.  In 
connection  with  this  proficiency  in  music,  my  mother 
recalls  her  sensitiveness  at  that  time  as  being  pain- 
fully extreme.  When  there  were  visitors,  Miss  Evans, 
as  the  best  performer  in  the  school,  was  sometimes 


1832.]        Regard  for  the  Miss  Franklins.  19 

summoned  to  the  parlor  to  play  for  their  amusement, 
and  though  suffering  agonies  from  shyness  and  reluc- 
tance, she  obeyed  with  all  readiness,  but,  on  being  re- 
leased, my  mother  has  often  known  her  to  rush  to  her 
room  and  throw  herself  on  the  floor  in  an  agony  of 
tears.  Her  schoolfellows  loved  her  as  much  as  they 
could  venture  to  love  one  whom  they  felt  to  be  so  im- 
measurably superior  to  themselves,  and  she  had  play- 
ful nicknames  for  most  of  them.  My  mother,  who  was 
delicate,  and  to  whom  she  was  very  kind,  was  dubbecl 
by  her  'Miss  Equanimity.'  A  source  of  great  interest 
to  the  girls,  and  of  envy  to  those  who  lived  farther 
from  home,  was  the  weekly  cart  which  brought  Miss 
Evans  new-laid  eggs  and  other  delightful  produce  of 
her  father's  farm." 

In  talking  about  these  early  days,  my  wife  impressed 
on  my  mind  the  debt  she  felt  that  she  owed  to  the  Miss 
Franklins  for  their  excellent  instruction,  and  she  had 
also  the  very  highest  respect  for  their  moral  qualities. 
With  her  chameleon-like  nature  she  soon  adopted  their 
religious  views  with  intense  eagerness  and  conviction, 
although  she  never  formally  joined  the  Baptists  or  any 
other  communion  than  the  Church  of  England.  She 
at  once,  however,  took  a  foremost  place  in  the  school, 
and  became  a  leader  of  prayer -meetings  among  the 
girls.  In  addition  to  a  sound  English  education  the 
Miss  Franklins  managed  to  procure  for  their  pupils 
excellent  masters  for  French,  German,  and  music;  so 
that,  looking  to  the  lights  of  those  times,  the  means  of 
obtaining  knowledge  were  very  much  above  the  aver- 
age for  girls.  Her  teachers,  on  their  side,  were  very 
proud  of  their  exceptionally  gifted  scholar;  and  years 
afterwards,  when  Miss  Evans  came  with  her  father  to 
live  in  Coventry,  they  introduced  her  to  one  of  their 


2O  Riot  at  Nuncaton.  [GRIFF, 

friends,  not  only  as  a  marvel  of  mental  power,  but  also 
as  a  person  "  sure  to  get  something  up  very  soon  in 
the  way  of  clothing -club  or  other  charitable  under- 
taking." 

This  year,  1832,  was  not  only  memorable  for  the 
change  to  a  new  and  superior  school,  but  it  was  also 
much  more  memorable  to  George  Eliot  for  the  riot 
which  she  saw  at  Nuneaton,  on  the  occasion  of  the 
election  for  North  Warwickshire,  after  the  passing  of 
the  great  Reform  Bill,  and  which  subsequently  furnished 
her  with  the  incidents  for  the  riot  in  "  Felix  Holt."  It 
was  an  event  to  lay  hold  on  the  imagination  of  an  im- 
pressionable girl  of  thirteen,  and  it  is  thus  described 
in  the  local  newspaper  of  zglh  December,  1832  : 

"On  Friday,  the  2ist  December,  at  Nuneaton,  from 
the  commencement  of  the  poll  till  nearly  half-past  two, 
the  Hemingites1  occupied  the  poll;  the  numerous 
plumpers  for  Sir  Eardley  Wilmot  and  the  adherents  of 
Mr.  Dugdale  being  constantly  interrupted  in  their  en- 
deavors to  go  to  the  hustings  to  give  an  honest  and 
conscientious  vote.  The  magistrates  were  consequent- 
ly applied  to,  and  from  the  representations  they  re- 
ceived from  all  parties,  they  were  at  length  induced  to 
call  in  aid  a  military  force.  A  detachment  of  the  Scots 
Greys  accordingly  arrived ;  but  it  appearing  that  that 
gallant  body  was  not  sufficiently  strong  to  put  down 
the  turbulent  spirit  of  the  mob,  a  reinforcement  was 
considered  by  the  constituted  authorities  as  absolutely 
necessary.  The  tumult  increasing,  as  the  detachment- 
of  the  Scots  Greys  were  called  in,  the  Riot  Act  was  read 
from  the  windows  of  the  Newdigate  Arms;  and  we  re- 
gret to  add  that  both  W.  P.  Inge,  Esq.,  and  Colonel 

1  A  Mr.  Heming  was  the  Radical  candidate. 


1836.]  George  Eliot's  First  Letter.  21 

Newdigate,  in  the  discharge  of  their  magisterial  duties, 
received  personal  injuries. 

"On  Saturday  the  mob  presented  an  appalling  ap- 
pearance, and  but  for  the  forbearance  of  the  soldiery 
numerous  lives  would  have  fallen  a  sacrifice.  Several 
of  the  officers  of  the  Scots  Greys  were  materially  hurt 
in  their  attempt  to  quell  the  riotous  proceedings  of  the 
mob.  During  the  day  the  sub-sheriffs  at  the  different 
booths  received  several  letters  from  the  friends  of  Mr. 
Dugdale,  stating  that  they  were  outside  of  the  town, 
and  anxious  to  vote  for  that  gentleman,  but  were  de- 
terred from  entering  it  from  fear  of  personal  violence. 
Two  or  three  unlucky  individuals,  drawn  from  the  files 
of  the  military  on  their  approach  to  the  poll,  were 
cruelly  beaten,  and  stripped  literally  naked.  We  re- 
gret to  add  that  one  life  has  been  sacrified  during  the 
contest,  and  that  several  misguided  individuals  have 
been  seriously  injured." 

The  term  ending  Christmas,  1835,  was  the  last  spent 
at  Miss  Franklin's.  In  the  first  letter  of  George  Eliot's 
that  I  have  been  able  to  discover,  dated  6th  January, 
1836,  and  addressed  to  Miss  Lewis,  who  was  at  that 
time  governess  in  the  family  of  the  Rev.  L.  Harper. 
Burton  Latimer,  Northamptonshire,  she  speaks  of  her 
mother  having  suffered  a  great  increase  of  pain,  and 
adds — 

"  We  dare  not  hope  that  there  will  be  a  permanent 
improvement.  Our  anxieties  on  my  mother's  account, 
though  so  great,  have  been  since  Thursday  almost  lost 
sight  of  in  the  more  sudden,  and  consequently  more 
severe,  trial  which  we  have  been  called  on  to  endure 
in  the  alarming  illness  of  my  dear  father.  For  four 
days  we  had  no  cessation  of  our  anxiety;  but  I  am 
thankful  to  say  that  he  is  now  considered  out  of  clan- 


22  Mother  s  Death.  [GRIFF, 

ger,  though  very  much  reduced  by  frequent  bleeding 
and  very  powerful  medicines." 

In  the  summer  of  this  year — 1836 — the  mother  died, 
after  a  long,  painful  illness,  in  which  she  was  nursed 
with  great  devotion  by  her  daughters.  It  was  their 
first  acquaintance  with  death  ;  and  to  a  highly  wrought, 
sensitive  girl  of  sixteen  such  a  loss  seems  an  unendur- 
able calamity.  "  To  the  old,  sorrow  is  sorrow  ;  to  the 
young,  it  is  despair."  Many  references  will  be  found 
in  the  subsequent  correspondence  to  what  she  suffered 
at  this  time,  all  summed  up  in  the  old  popular  phrase, 
"  We  can  have  but  one  mother."  In  the  following 
spring  Christiana  was  married  to  Mr.  Edward  Clarke, 
a  surgeon  practising  at  Meriden,  in  Warwickshire.  One 
of  Mr.  Isaac  Evans's  most  vivid  recollections  is  that 
on  the  day  of  the  marriage,  after  the  bride's  departure, 
he  and  his  younger  sister  had  "  a  good  cry  "  together 
over  the  break-up  of  the  old  home-life,  which  of  course 
oould  never  be  the  same  with  the  mother  and  the  elder 
sister  wanting. 

Twenty-three  years  later  we  shall  find  George  Eliot 
writing,  on  the  death  of  this  sister,  that  she  "  had  a 
very  special  feeling  for  her — stronger  than  any  third 
person  would  think  likely."  The  relation  between  the 
sisters  was  somewhat  like  that  described  as  existing 
between  Dorothea  and  Celia  in  "Middlemarch" — no 
intellectual  affinity,  but  a  strong  family  affection.  In 
fact,  my  wife  told  me,  that  although  Celia  was  not  in 
any  sense  a  portrait  of  her  sister,  she  "  had  Chrissey 
continually  in  mind  "  in  delineating  Celia's  character. 
But  we  must  be  careful  not  to  found  too  much  on  such 
suggestions  of  character  in  George  Eliot's  books ;  and 
this  must  particularly  be  borne  in  mind  in  the  "  Mill 
on  the  Floss."  No  doubt  the  early  part  of  Maggie's 


1836.]  Relations  with  Brother.  23 

portraiture  is  the  best  autobiographical  representation 
we  can  have  of  George  Eliot's  own  feelings  in  her 
childhood,  and  many  of  the  incidents  in  the  book  are 
based  on  real  experiences  of  family  life,  but  so  mixed 
with  fictitious  elements  and  situations  that  it  would  be 
absolutely  misleading  to  trust  to  it  as  a  true  history. 
For  instance,  all  that  happened  in  real  life  between  the 
brother  and  sister  was,  I  believe,  that  as  they  grew  up 
their  characters,  pursuits,  and  tastes  diverged  more  and 
more  widely.  He  took  to  his  father's  business,  at  which 
he  worked  steadily,  and  which  absorbed  most  of  his 
time  and  attention.  He  was  also  devoted  to  hunting, 
liked  the  ordinary  pleasures  of  a  young  man  in  his 
circumstances,  and  was  quite  satisfied  with  the  circle 
of  acquaintance  in  which  he  moved.  After  leaving 
school  at  Coventry  he  went  to  a  private  tutor's  at  Bir- 
mingham, where  he  imbibed  strong  High-Church  views. 
His  sister  had  come  back  from  the  Miss  Franklins' 
with  ultra-Evangelical  tendencies,  and  their  differences 
of  opinion  used  to  lead  to  a  good  deal  of  animated 
argument.  Miss  Evans,  as  she  now  was,  could  not 
rest  satisfied  with  a  mere  profession  of  faith  without 
trying  to  shape  her  own  life — and,  it  may  be  added,  the 
lives  around  her — in  accordance  with  her  convictions. 
The  pursuit  of  pleasure  was  a  snare ;  dress  was  vanity ; 
society  was  a  danger. 

"  From  what  you  know  of  her,  you  will  not  be  sur- 
prised that  she  threw  some  exaggeration  and  wilful- 
ness,  some  pride  and  impetuosity,  even  into  her  self- 
renunciation  :  her  own  life  was  still  a  drama  for  her, 
in  which  she  demanded  of  herself  that  her  part  should 
be  played  with  intensity.  And  so  it  came  to  pass  that 
she  often  lost  the  spirit  of  humility  by  being  excessive 
in  the  outward  act ;  she  often  strove  after  too  high  a 


24  Head  of  House  at  Griff.  [GRIFF, 

flight,  and  came  down  with  her  poor  little  half-fledged 
wings  dabbled  in  the  mud.  .  .  .  That  is  the  path  we  all 
like  when  we  set  out  on  our  abandonment  of  egoism — 
the  path  of  martyrdom  and  endurance,  where  the  palm- 
branches  grow,  rather  than  the  steep  highway  of  tol- 
erance, just  allowance,  and  self-blame,  where  there  are 
no  leafy  honors  to  be  gathered  and  worn." J 

After  Christiana's  marriage  the  entire  charge  of  the 
Griff  establishment  devolved  on  Mary  Ann,  who  be- 
came a  most  exemplary  housewife,  learned  thoroughly 
everything  that  had  to  be  done,  and,  with  her  innate 
desire  for  perfection,  was  never  satisfied  unless  her  de- 
partment was  administered  in  the  very  best  manner 
that  circumstances  permitted.  She  spent  a  great  deal 
of  time  in  visiting  the  poor,  organizing  clothing-clubs, 
and  other  works  of  active  charity.  But  over  and  above 
this,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  following  letters,  she  was 
always  prosecuting  an  active  intellectual  life  of  her  own. 
Mr.  Brezzi,  a  well-known  master  of  modern  languages 
at  Coventry,  used  to  come  over  to  Griff  regularly  to 
give  her  lessons  in  Italian  and  German.  Mr.  M'Ewen, 
also  from  Coventry,  continued  her  lessons  in  music, 
and  she  got  through  a  large  amount  of  miscellaneous 
reading  by  herself.  In  the  evening  she  was  always  in 
the  habit  of  playing  to  her  father,  who  was  very  fond 
of  music.  But  it  requires  no  great  effort  of  imagina- 
tion to  conceive  that  this  life,  though  full  of  interests 
of  its  own,  and  the  source  from  whence  the  future 
novelist  drew  the  most  powerful  and  the  most  touching 
of  her  creations,  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  very  monoto- 
nous, very  difficult,  very  discouraging.  It  could  scarce- 
ly be  otherwise  to  a  young  girl  with  a  full,  passionate 

1  "  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  chap.  iii.  book  iv. 


1837.]  Monotony  of  Country  Life.  25 

nature  and  hungry  intellect,  shut  up  in  a  farmhouse  in 
the  remote  country.  For  there  was  no  sympathetic  hu- 
man soul  near  with  whom  to  exchange  ideas  on  the  in- 
tellectual and  spiritual  problems  that  were  beginning 
to  agitate  her  mind.  "  You  may  try,  but  you  can  never 
imagine  what  it  is  to  have  a  man's  force  of  genius  in 
you,  and  yet  to  suffer  the  slavery  of  being  a  girl."  ' 
This  is  a  point  of  view  that  must  be  distinctly  recog- 
nized by  any  one  attempting  to  follow  the  develop- 
ment of  George  Eliot's  character,  and  it  will  always  be 
corrected  by  the  other  point  of  view  which  she  has 
made  so  prominent  in  all  her  own  writing — the  sooth- 
ing, strengthening,  sacred  influences  of  the  home  life,  the 
home  loves,  the  home  duties.  Circumstances  in  later 
life  separated  her  from  her  kindred,  but  among  her  last 
letters  it  will  be  seen  that  she  wrote  to  her  brother  in 
May,  1880,  that  "our  long  silence  has  never  broken 
the  affection  for  you  that  began  when  we  were  little 
ones"2  —  and  she  expresses  her  satisfaction  in  the 
growing  prosperity  of  himself  and  all  his  family.  It 
was  a  real  gratification  to  her  to  hear  from  some  Cov- 
entry friends  that  her  nephew,  the  Rev.  Frederic  Evans, 
the  present  rector  of  Bedworth,  was  well  spoken  of  as 
a  preacher  in  the  old  familiar  places,  and  in  our  last 
summer  at  Witley  we  often  spoke  of  a  visit  to  War- 
wickshire, that  she  might  renew  the  sweet  memories  of 
her  child-days.  No  doubt,  the  very  monotony  of  her 
life  at  Griff,  and  the  narrow  field  it  presented  for  ob- 
servation of  society,  added  immeasurably  to  the  inten- 
sity of  a  naturally  keen  mental  vision,  concentrating  into 
a  focus  what  might  perhaps  have  become  dissipated  in 
more  liberal  surroundings.  And  though  the  field  of 

1  "Daniel  Deronda."  *  See  vol.  iii. 


26  Social  Influences.  [GRIFF, 

observation  was  narrow  in  one  sense,  it  included  very 
various  grades  of  society.  Such  fine  places  as  Arbury, 
and  Packington,  the  seat  of  Lord  Aylesford,  where  she 
was  being  constantly  driven  by  her  father,  affected  the 
imagination  and  accentuated  the  social  differences — 
differences  which  had  a  profound  significance  for  such 
a  sensitive  and  such  an  intellectually  commanding 
character,  and  which  left  their  mark  on  it. 

"  No  one  who  has  not  a  strong  natural  prompting 
and  susceptibility  towards  such  things  [the  signs  and 
luxuries  of  ladyhood]  and  has,  at  the  same  time,  suf- 
fered from  the  presence  of  opposite  conditions,  can 
understand  how  powerfully  those  minor  accidents  of 
rank  which  please  the  fastidious  sense  can  preoccupy 
the  imagination." ' 

The  tone  of  her  mind  will  be  seen  from  the  letters 
written  during  the  following  years,  and  I  remember 
once,  after  we  were  married,  when  I  was  urging  her  to 
write  her  autobiography,  she  said,  half  sighing,  half 
smiling,  "The  only  thing  I  should  care  much  to  dwell 
on  would  be  the  absolute  despair  I  suffered  from  of 
ever  being  able  to  achieve  anything.  No  one  could 
ever  have  felt  greater  despair,  and  a  knowledge  of  this 
might  be  a  help  to  some  other  struggler" — adding,  with 
a  smile,  "  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  might  only  lead  to 
an  increase  of  bad  writing." 


SUMMARY. 

NOVEMBER  22,   1819,  TO   END   OF    1837. 

Birth  at  Arbury  Farm — Baptism — Character  of  father — His 
first  marriage  and  children — Second  marriage  and  children — Re- 
moval to  Griff — Events  at  time  of  birth — Character  of  country 

!  "  Felix  Holt,"  chap,  xxxviii.  p.  399. 


1837.]  Summary.  27 

about  Griff — Coach  communication — Father's  position — Anec- 
dotes of  father — Character  of  mother — Mother's  family  and  del- 
icacy— Dame's  school — Companionship  with  brother — Miss  La- 
thom's  school  at  Attleboro — Suffers  from  fear — Father's  pet — 
Drives  with  him — First  books  read — First  journey  to  Stafford- 
shire— Miss  Wellington's  school  at  Nuneaton — Miss  Lewis,  gov- 
erness— Books  read — Religious  impressions — Charade  acting — 
Miss  Franklin's  school  at  Coventry — Riot  at  Nuneaton — First 
letter  to  Miss  Lewis — Mother's  illness — Mother's  death — Sister 
Christiana  married  to  Mr.  Clarke  —  Relations  with  brother  — 
Housekeeper  at  Griff — Life  and  studies  there. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN  the  foregoing  introductory  sketch  I  have  endeav- 
ored to  present  the  influences  to  which  George  Eliot 
was  subjected  in  her  youth,  and  the  environment  in 
which  she  grew  up  j  I  am  now  able  to  begin  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  promise  on  the  titlepage,  that  the  life  will 
be  related  in  her  own  letters ;  or,  rather,  in  extracts 
from  her  own  letters,  for  no  single  letter  is  printed  en- 
tire from  the  beginning  to  the  end.  I  have  not  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  any  between  6th  January,  1836, 
and  i8th  August,  1838;  but  from  the  latter  date  the 
correspondence  becomes  regular,  and  I  have  arranged 
it  as  a  continuous  narrative,  with  the  names  of  the 
persons  to  whom  the  letters  are  addressed  in  the  mar- 
gin. The  slight  thread  of  narrative  or  explanation 
which  I  have  written  to  elucidate  the  letters,  where 
necessary,  will  hereafter  occupy  an  inside  margin,  so 
that  the  reader  will  see  at  a  glance  what  is  narrative 
and  what  is  correspondence,  and  will  be  troubled  as 
iittle  as  possible  with  marks  of  quotation  or  changes 
of  type. 

The  following  opening  letter  of  the  series  to  Miss 
Lewis  describes  a  first  visit  to  London  with  her 
brother : 

^et  nie  te^  y°u>  tnough>  ^iat  I  vvas  not  at  a^  delight- 
ed  u-jth  the  stir  of  tne  great  Babel,  and  the  less  so, 

probably,  owing  to  the  circumstances  attending  my 
visit   thither.      Isaac   and    I    went   alone   (that  seems 


1838.]  First  Visit  to  London.  29 

rather  Irish),  and  stayed  only  a  week,  every  day  of 
which  we  worked  hard  at  seeing  sights.  I  think 
Greenwich  Hospital  interested  me  more  than  any- 
thing else. 

Mr.  Isaac  Evans  himself  tells  me  that  what  he 
remembers  chiefly  impressed  her  was  the  first  hear- 
ing the  great  bell  of  St.  Paul's.  It  affected  her 
deeply.  At  that  time  she  was  so  much  under  the 
influence  of  religious  and  ascetic  ideas  that  she 
would  not  go  to  any  of  the  theatres  with  her  broth- 
er, but  spent  all  her  evenings  alone,  reading.  A 
characteristic  reminiscence  is  that  the  chief  thing 
she  wanted  to  buy  was  Josephus's  "  History  of  the 
Jews ;"  and  at  the  same  bookshop  her  brother  got 
her  this  he  bought  for  himself  a  pair  of  hunting 
sketches.  In  the  same  letter,  alluding  to  the  mar- 
riage of  one  of  her  friends,  she  says  : 

For  my  part,  when  I  hear  of  the  marrying  and  giving  Letter 
in  marriage  that  is  constantly  being  transacted,  I  can  Lewis, 

3  1 8th  Aug. 

only  sigh  for  those  who  are  multiplying  earthly  ties  1838. 
which,  though  powerful  enough  to  detach  their  hearts 
and  thoughts  from  heaven,  are  so  brittle  as  to  be  lia- 
ble to  be  snapped  asunder  at  every  breeze.  You  will 
think  that  I  need  nothing  but  a  tub  for  my  habitation 
to  make  me  a  perfect  female  Diogenes  ;  and  I  plead 
guilty  to  occasional  misanthropical  thoughts,  but  not 
to  the  indulgence  of  them.  Still,  I  must  believe  that 
those  are  happiest  who  are  not  fermenting  themselves 
by  engaging  in  projects  for  earthly  bliss,  who  are  con- 
sidering this  life  merely  a  pilgrimage,  a  scene  calling 
for  diligence  and  watchfulness,  not  for  repose  and 
amusement.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  may  be  many 
who  can  partake  with  a  high  degree  of  zest  of  all  the 
lawful  enjoyments  the  world  can  offer,  and  yet  live  in 


3O  On  "  Living  for  Eternity"         [GRIFF, 

Letter       near  communion  with  their  God — who  can  warmly  love 

to  Miss 

Lewis,       the  creature,  and  yet  be  careful  that  the  Creator  main- 

i8th  Aug.         .  .        .     .     ,  - 

1838.  tains  his  supremacy  in  their  hearts  ;  but  I  confess  that, 
in  my  short  experience  and  narrow  sphere  of  action,  I 
have  never  been  able  to  attain  to  this.  I  find,  as  Dr. 
Johnson  said  respecting  his  wine,  total  abstinence 
much  easier  than  moderation.  I  do  not  wonder  you 
are  pleased  with  Pascal;1  his  thoughts  may  be  re 
turned  to  the  palate  again  and  again  with  increasing 
rather  than  diminished  relish.  I  have  highly  enjoyed 
Hannah  More's  letters;  the  contemplation  of  so  bless- 
ed a  character  as  hers  is  very  salutary.  "  That  ye  be 
not  slothful,  but  followers  of  them  who,  through  faith 
and  patience,  inherit  the  promises,"  is  a  valuable  ad- 
monition. I  was  once  told  that  there  was  nothing  out 
of  myself  to  prevent  my  becoming  as  eminently  holy 
as  St.  Paul ;  and  though  I  think  that  is  too  sweeping 
an  assertion,  yet  it  is  very  certain  we  are  generally  too 
low  in  our  aims,  more  anxious  for  safety  than  sanctity, 
for  place  than  purity,  forgetting  that  each  involves  the 
other,  and  that,  as  Doddridge  tells  us,  to  rest  satisfied 
with  any  attainments  in  religion  is  a  fearful  proof 
that  we  are  ignorant  of  the  very  first  principles  of  it. 
O  that  we  could  live  only  for  eternity !  that  we  could  re- 
alize its  nearness  !  I  know  you  do  not  love  quotations, 
so  I  will  not  give  you  one  ;  but  if  you  do  not  distinctly 
remember  it,  do  turn  to  the  passage  in  Young's  "  Infi- 
del Reclaimed, "beginning,  "O  vain,  vain,  vain  all  else 
eternity,"  and  do  love  the  lines  for  my  sake. 

I  really  feel  for  you,  sacrificing,  as  you  are,  your  own 
tastes  and  comforts  for  the  pleasure  of  others,  and  that 
in  a  manner  the  most  trying  to  rebellious  flesh  and 

1  Given  to  her  as  a  school  prize  when  she  was  fourteen. 


1838.]      .  Michaelmas  Guests.  31 

blood;  for  I  verily  believe  that  in  most  cases  it  re- Letter 

r  ...  ...  to  Miss 

quires  more  of  a  martyr  s  spirit  to  endure,  with  patience  Lewis, 

11  r  i  i    -i  •  -i    •  •  -  i8th  Aug 

and  cheerfulness,  daily  crossings  and  interruptions  of  1838. 
our  petty  desires  and  pursuits,  and  to  rejoice  in  them 
if  they  can  be  made  to  conduce  to  God's  glory  and  our 
own  sanctification,  than  even  to  lay  down  our  lives  for 
the  truth. 

I  can  hardly  repress  a  sort  of  indignation  towards  Letter 

to  Miss 

second  causes.     That  your  time  and  energies  should  Lewis, 

,    .  ...  .6th  Nov. 

be  expended  in  ministering  to  the  petty  interests  of  1838. 
those  far  beneath  you  in  all  that  is  really  elevating  is 
about  as  bienseant  as  that  I  should  set  fire  to  a  goodly 
volume  to  light  a  match  by !  I  have  had  a  very  un- 
settled life  lately — Michaelmas,  with  its  onerous  duties 
and  anxieties,  much  company  (for  us)  and  little  read- 
ing, so  that  I  am  ill  prepared  for  corresponding  with 
profit  or  pleasure.  I  am  generally  in  the  same  pre- 
dicament with  books  as  a  glutton  with  his  feast,  hur- 
rying through  one  course  that  I  may  be  in  time  for  the 
next,  arid  so  not  relishing  or  digesting  either ;  not  a 
very  elegant  illustration,  but  the  best  my  organs  of 
ideality  and  comparison  will  furnish  just  now. 

I  have  just  begun  the  "  Life  of  Wilberforce,"  and  I  am 
expecting  a  rich  treat  from  it.  There  is  a  similarity, 
if  I  may  compare  myself  with  such  a  man,  between 
his  temptations,  or  rather  besetments,  and  my  own,  that 
makes  his  experience  very  interesting  to  me.  O  that 
I  might  be  made  as  useful  in  my  lowly  and  obscure 
station  as  he  was  in  the  exalted  one  assigned  to  him ! 
I  feel  myself  to  be  a  mere  cumberer  of  the  ground. 
May  the  Lord  give  me  such  an  insight  into  what  is 
truly  good  that  I  may  not  rest  contented  with  making 
Christianity  a  mere  addendum  to  my  pursuits,  or  with 
tacking  it  as  a  fringe  to  my  garments !  May  I  seek  to 


32  Condemns  Oratorios.  •«    [GRIFF, 

be  sanctified  wholly !  My  nineteenth  birthday  will 
soon  be  here  (the  22d) — an  awakening  signal.  My 
mind  has  been  much  clogged  lately  by  languor  of 
body,  to  which  I  am  prone  to  give  way,  and  for  the 
removal  of  which  I  shall  feel  thankful: 

We  have  had  an  oratorio  at  Coventry  lately,  Bra- 
ham,  Phillips,  Mrs.  Knyvett,  and  Mrs.  Shaw — the  last, 
I  think,  I  shall  attend.  I  am  not  fitted  to  decide  on 
the  question  of  the  propriety  or  lawfulness  of  such  ex- 
hibitions of  talent  and  so  forth,  because  I  have  no  soul 
for  music.  "  Happy  is  he  that  condemneth  not  him- 
self in  that  thing  which  he  alloweth."  I  am  a  taste- 
less person,  but  it  would  not  cost  me  any  regrets  if  the 
only  music  heard  in  our  land  were  that  of  strict  wor- 
ship, nor  can  I  think  a  pleasure  that  involves  the  devo- 
tion of  all  the  time  and  powers  of  an  immortal  being 
to  the  acquirement  of  an  expertness  in  so  useless  (at 
least  in  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred)  an  accom- 
plishment, can  be  quite  pure  or  elevating  in  its  ten- 
dency. 

The  above  remarks  on  oratorio  are  the  more  sur- 
prising because,  two  years  later,  when  Miss  Evans 
went  to  the  Birmingham  festival,  in  September, 
1840,  previous  to  her  brother's  marriage,  she  was 
affected  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  so  much  so 
that  Mrs.  Isaac  Evans — then  Miss  Rawlins — told 
me  that  the  attention  of  people  sitting  near  was 
attracted  by  her  hysterical  sobbing.  And  in  all 
her  later  life  music  was  one  of  the  chiefest  delights 
to  her,  and  especially  oratorio. 

"Not  that  her  enjoyment  of  music  was  of  the  kind 
that  indicates  a  great  specific  talent ;  it  was  rather 
that  her  sensibility  to  the  supreme  excitement  of  mu- 
sic was  only  one  form  of  that  passionate  sensibility 


1839.]  Wirksw&rth  Aunt.  33 

which  belonged  to  her  whole  nature,  and  made  her 
faults  and  virtues  all  merge  in  each  other — made  her 
affections  sometimes  an  impatient  demand,  but  also 
prevented  her  vanity  from  taking  the  form  of  mere 
feminine  coquetry  and  device,  and  gave  it  the  poetry 
of  ambition."1 

The  next  two  letters,  dated  from  Griff — Feb- 
ruary 6th  and  March  5th,  1839 — are  addressed  to 
Mrs.  Samuel  Evans,  a  Methodist  preacher,  the  wife 
of  a  younger  brother  of  Mr.  Robert  Evans.  They 
are  the  more  interesting  from  the  fact,  which  will 
appear  later,  that  an  anecdote  related  by  this  aunt 
during  her  visit  to  Griff  in  1839  was  the  germ  of 
"  Adam  Bede."  To  what  extent  this  Elizabeth 
Evans  resembled  the  ideal  character  of  Dinah 
Morris  will  also  be  seen  in  its  place  in  the  history 
of  "Adam  Bede." 
I  am  so  unwilling  to  believe  that  you  can  forget  aLetterto 

-  .  iii      Mrs.  Sam 

promise,  or  to  entertain  fears  respecting  your  health,  uei  Evans 
that  I  persuade  myself  I  must  have  mistaken  the  1839. 
terms  of  the  agreement  between  us,  and  that  I  ought 
to  have  sent  you  a  letter  before  I  considered  myself 
entitled  to  one  from  Wirksworth.  However  this  may 
be,  I  feel  so  anxious  to  hear  of  your  well-being  in 
every  way,  that  I  can  no  longer  rest  satisfied  without 
using  my  only  means  of  obtaining  tidings  of  you. 
My  dear  father  is  not  at  home  to-night,  or  I  should 
probably  have  a  message  of  remembrance  to  give  you 
from  him,  in  addition  to  the  good  news  that  he  is  as 
well  as  he  has  been  for  the  last  two  years,  and  even, 
I  think,  better,  except  that  he  feels  more  fatigue  after 
exertion  of  mind  or  body  than  formerly.  If  you  are 

1  "  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  chap.  v.  book  vi. 
2 


34  Religious  Experiences.  [GRIFF, 

itter  to    able  to  fill  a  sheet.  I  am   sure  both   uncle   and  you 

rs.  Sam- 

i  Evans,  would  in  doing  so  be  complying  with  the  precept, 
39-  "Lift  up  the  hands  that  hang  down,  and  strengthen 
the  feeble  knees."  I  need  not  tell  you  that  this  is  a 
dry  and  thirsty  land,  and  I  shall  be  as  grateful  to  you 
for  a  draught  from  your  fresh  spring  as  the  traveller 
in  the  Eastern  desert  is  to  the  unknown  hand  that 
digs  a  well  for  him.  "  Unstable  as  water,  thou  shalt 
not  excel,"  seems  to  be  my  character,  instead  of  that 
regular  progress  from  strength  to  strength  that  marks, 
even  in  this  world  of  mistakes,  the  people  that  shall, 
in  the  heavenly  Zion,  stand  before  God.  I  shall  not 
only  suffer,  but  be  delighted  to  receive,-  the  word  of 
exhortation,  and  I  beg  you  not  to  withhold  it.  If  I 
did  not  know  how  little  you  need  human  help,  I 
should  regret  that  my  ignorance  and  want  of  deep 
feeling  in  spiritual  things  prevent  me  from  suggesting 
profitable  or  refreshing  thoughts ;  but  I  dare  say  I 
took  care  to  tell  you  that  my  desire  for  correspond- 
ence with  you  was  quite  one  of  self-interest. 

I  am  thankful  to  tell  you  that  my  dear  friends  here 
are  all  well.  I  have  a  faint  hope  that  the  pleasure 
and  profit  I  have  felt  in  your  society  may  be  repeated 
in  the  summer :  there  is  no  place  I  would  rather  visit 
than  Wirksworth,  or  the  inhabitants  of  which  have  a 
stronger  hold  on  my  affections. 

In  the  next  letter  the  touch  about  Mrs.  Fletch- 
er's life  is  characteristic. 

etterto    My  dear  father  is  just  now  so  plunged  in  business, 
:i  Evans,  and  that  of  a  fatiguing  kind,  that  I  should  put  your 

h  Mch.  ....  ... 

39.  confidence  in  my  love  and  gratitude  to  an  unreason- 
ably severe  trial  if  I  waited  until  he  had  leisure  to 
unite  with  me  in  filling  a  sheet.  You  were  very  kind 
to  remember  my  wish  to  see  "  Mrs.  Fletcher's  Life  :"  I 


1839-]  Religious  Experiences.  35 

only  desire  such  a  spiritual  digestion  as  has  enabled  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Sam- 

you  to  derive  so  much  benefit  from  its  perusal.     I  uei  Evans, 

5th  Mch. 

am  truly  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  less  embarrassed  1839. 
with  respect  to  your  congregation,  etc.,  than  you  were 
when  we  saw  you.     I  must  protest  against  your  mak- 
ing apologies  for  speaking  of  yourself,  for  nothing  that 
relates  to  you  can  be  uninteresting  to  me. 

The  unprofitableness  you  lament  in  yourself,  during 
your  visit  to  us,  had  its  true  cause,  not  in  your  luke- 
warmness,  but  in  the  little  improvement  I  sought  to 
derive  from  your  society,  and  in  my  lack  of  humility 
and  Christian  simplicity,  that  makes  me  willing  to  ob- 
tain credit  for  greater  knowledge  and  deeper  feeling 
than  I  really  possess.  Instead  of  putting  my  light 
under  a  bushel,  I  am  in  danger  of  ostentatiously  dis- 
playing a  false  one.  You  have  much  too  high  an 
opinion,  my  dear  aunt,  of  my  spiritual  condition,  and 
of  my  personal  and  circumstantial  advantages.  My 
soul  seems  for  weeks  together  completely  benumbed, 
and  when  I  am  aroused  from  this  torpid  state,  the 
intervals  of  activity  are  comparatively  short.  I  am 
ever  finding  excuses  for  this  in  the  deprivation  of 
outward  excitement  and  the  small  scope  I  have  for 
the  application  of  my  principles,  instead  of  feeling 
self-abasement  under  the  consciousness  that  I  abuse 
precious  hours  of  retirement,  which  would  be  eagerly 
employed  in  spiritual  exercises  by  many  a  devoted 
servant  of  God  who  is  struggling  with  worldly  cares 
and  occupations.  I  feel  that  my  besetting  sin  is  the 
one  of  all  others  most  destroying,  as  it  is  the  fruitful 
parent  of  them  all — ambition,  a  desire  insatiable  for 
the  esteem  of  my  fellow-creatures.  This  seems  the 
centre  whence  all  my  actions  proceed.  But  you  will 
perhaps  remember,  my  dear  aunt,  that  I  do  not  attach 


36  Condemns  Fiction-Reading.  [GRIFF, 

Letter  to    much  value  to  a  disclosure  of  religious  feelings,  owing 

Mrs.  Sam- 
uel Evans,  probably  to  the  dominant  corruption  I  have  just  been 

«839-         speaking  of,  which  "turns  the  milk  of  my  good  pur- 
pose all  to  curd." 

On  i6th  March,  1839,  in  a  letter  to  Miss  Lewis, 

there  is  a  reference  to  good  spirits,  which  is  of  the 

rarest  occurrence  all  through  the  correspondence : 

Le'te.r       I  am  this  morning  hardly  myself,  owing  to  the  insup- 

Lewis,i6th  pressible  rising  of  my  animal  spirits  on  a  deliverance 

from  sick  headache ; 

and  then  the  letter  continues  as  to  the  expediency 
of  reading  works  of  fiction,  in  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion Miss  Lewis  had  asked  : 

I  put  out  of  the  question  all  persons  of  perceptions  so 
quick,  memories  so  eclectic  and  retentive,  and  minds 
so  comprehensive  that  nothing  less  than  omnivorous 
reading,  as  Southey  calls  it,  can  satisfy  their  intellect- 
ual man  ;  for  (if  I  may  parody  the  words  of  Scripture 
without  profaneness)  they  will  gather  to  themselves 
all  facts,  and  heap  unto  themselves  all  ideas.  For 
such  persons  we  cannot  legislate.  Again,  I  would  put 
out  of  the  question  standard  works,  whose  contents 
are  matter  of  constant  reference,  and  the  names  of 
whose  heroes  and  heroines  briefly,  and  therefore  con- 
veniently, describe  characters  and  ideas  —  such  are 
"Don  Quixote,"  Butler's  "Hudibras,"  "Robinson 
Crusoe,"  "Gil  Bias,"  Byron's  Poetical  Romances, 
Southey's  ditto,  etc.  Such,  too,  are  Walter  Scott's 
novels  and  poems.  Such  allusions  as  "  He  is  a  per- 
fect Dominie  Sampson,"  "He  is  as  industrious  in 
finding  out  antiquities,  and  about  as  successful,  as 
Jonathan  Oldbuck,"  are  likely  to  become  so  common 
in  books  and  conversation  that,  always  providing  our 
leisure  is  not  circumscribed  by  duty  within  narrow 


1839-]  Bad  Effects  of  Novels.  37 

bounds,  we  should,  I  think,  qualify  ourselves  to  under- Letter 

.  .  .to  Miss 

stand  them.     Shakespeare  has  a  higher  claim  than  this  Lewis,i6th 

Mch.  1839. 

on  our  attention ;  but  we  have  need  of  as  nice  a  power 
of  distillation  as  the  bee,  to  suck  nothing  but  honey 
from  his  pages.  However,  as  in  life  we  must  be  ex- 
posed to  mal'gn  influences  from  intercourse  with  oth- 
ers, if  we  would  reap  the  advantages  designed  for  us 
by  making  us  social  beings,  so  in  books.  Having 
cleared  our  way  of  what  would  otherwise  have  en- 
cumbered us,  I  would  ask  why  is  one  engaged  in  the 
instruction  of  youth  to  read,  as  a  purely  conscientious 
and  self-denying  performance  of  duty,  works  whose 
value  to  others  is  allowed  to  be  doubtful  ?  I  can  only 
imagine  two  shadows  of  reasons.  Either  that  she 
may  be  able  experimentally  to  decide  on  their  desira- 
bleness for  her  pupils,  or  else  that  there  is  a  certain 
power  exerted  by  them  on  the  mind  that  would  render 
her  a  more  efficient  "  tutress "  by  their  perusal.  I 
would  not  depreciate  the  disinterestedness  of  those 
who  will  make  trial  of  the  effect  on  themselves  of  a 
cup  suspected  poisonous,  that  they  may  deter  another 
from  risking  life ;  but  it  appears  to  me  a  work  of  su- 
pererogation, since  there  are  enough  witnesses  to  its 
baneful  effect  on  themselves  already  to  put  an  end  to 
all  strife  in  the  matter.  The  Scriptural  declaration, 
"  As  face  answereth  to  face  in  a  glass,  so  the  heart  of 
man  to  man,"  will  exonerate  me  from  the  charge  of 
uncharitableness,  or  too  high  an  estimation  of  myself, 
if  I  venture  to  believe  that  the  same  causes  which 
exist  in  my  own  breast  to  render  novels  and  romances 
pernicious  have  their  counterpart  in  that  of  every 
fellow -creature.  I  am,  I  confess,  not  an  impartial 
member  of  a  jury  in  this  case ;  for  I  owe  the  culprits 
a  grudge  for  injuries  inflicted  on  myself.  When  I 


38  Why  not  Read  Truth?  [GRIFF, 

Letter       was  quite  a  little  child  I  could  not  be  satisfied  with 

to  Miss          ...  ,  T  .... 

Lewis, i6th the  things  around  me;  I  was  constantly  living;  in  a 

Mch.  .839.  .  ,       * 

world  of  my  own  creation,  and  was  quite  contented  to 
have  no  companions,  that  I  might  be  left  to  my  own 
musings,  and  imagine  scenes  in  which  I  was  chief 
actress.  Conceive  what  a  character  novels  would 
give  to  these  Utopias.  I  was  early  supplied  with 
them  by  those  who  kindly  sought  to  gratify  my  appe- 
tite for  reading,  and  of  course  I  made  use  of  the  ma- 
terials they  supplied  for  building  my  castles  in  the 
air.  But  it  may  be  said — "No  one  ever  dreamed  of 
recommending  children  to  read  them :  all  this  does 
not  apply  to  persons  come  to  years  of  discretion,  whose 
judgments  are  in  some  degree  matured."  I  answer 
that  men  and  women  are  but  children  of  a  larger 
growth  :  they  are  still  imitative  beings.  We  cannot 
(at  least  those  who  ever  read  to  any  purpose  at  all) — 
we  cannot,  I  say,  help  being  modified  by  the  ideas 
that  pass  through  our  minds.  We  hardly  wish  to  lay 
claim  to  such  elasticity  as  retains  no  impress.  We 
are  active  beings  too.  We  are  each  one  of  the  dra- 
matis persona  in  some  play  on  the  stage  of  life ; 
hence  our  actions  have  their  share  in  the  effects  of 
our  reading.  As  to  the  discipline  our  minds  receive 
from  the  perusal  of  fictions,  I  can  conceive  none  that 
is  beneficial  but  may  be  attained  by  that  of  history. 
It  is  the  merit  of  fictions  to  come  within  the  orbit  of 
probability  :  if  unnatural  they  would  no  longer  please. 
If  it  be  said  the  mind  must  have  relaxation,  "Truth  is 
strange — stranger  than  fiction."  When  a  person  has 
exhausted  the  wonders  of  truth  there  is  no  other  re- 
sort than  fiction  :  till  then,  I  cannot  imagine  how  the 
adventures  of  some  phantom  conjured  up  by  fancy 
can  be  more  entertaining  than  the  transactions  of  real 


1839-]  Hurtful  Novels.  39 

specimens  of  human  nature,  from  which  we  may  safely  Letter 
draw  inferences.  I  dare  say  Mr.  James's  "  Huguenot "  Lewis, i6th 
would  be  recommended  as  giving  an  idea  of  the  times 
of  which  he  writes  ;  but  as  well  may  one  be  recom- 
mended to  look  at  landscapes  for  an  idea  of  English 
scenery.  The  real  secret  of  the  relaxation  talked  of 
is  one  that  would  not  generally  be  avowed  ;  but  an 
appetite  that  wants  seasoning  of  a  certain  kind  cannot 
be  indicative  of  health.  Religious  novels  are  more 
hateful  to  me  than  merely  worldly  ones :  they  are  a 
sort  of  centaur  or  mermaid,  and,  like  other  monsters 
that  we  do  not  know  how  to  class,  should  be  destroyed 
for  the  public  good  as  soon  as  born.  The  weapons 
of  the  Christian  warfare  were  never  sharpened  at  the 
forge  of  romance.  Domestic  fictions,  as  they  come 
more  within  the  range  of  imitation,  seem  more  dan- 
gerous. For  my  part,  I  am  ready  to  sit  down  and 
weep  at  the  impossibility  of  my  understanding  or 
barely  knowing  a  fraction  of  the  sum  of  objects  that 
present  themselves  for  our  contemplation  in  books 
and  in  life.  Have  I,  then,  any  time  to  spend  on 
things  that  never  existed  ? 

You  allude  to  the  religious,  or  rather  irreligious,  Letter 

to  Miss 

contentions  that  form  so  prominent  a  feature  in  the  Lewis, 
aspect  of  public  affairs — a  subject,  you  will  perhaps  be  1839. 
surprised  to  hear  me  say,  full  of  interest  to  me,  and  on 
which  I  am  unable  to  shape  an  opinion  for  the  satis- 
faction of  my  mind.  I  think  no  one  feels  more  diffi- 
culty in  coming  to  a  decision  on  controverted  matters 
than  myself.  I  do  not  mean  that  I  have  not  prefer- 
ences ;  but,  however  congruous  a  theory  may  be  with 
my  notions,  I  cannot  find  that  comfortable  repose  that 
others  appear  to  possess  after  having  made  their  elec- 
tion of  a  class  of  sentiments.  The  other  clay  Mon- 


4O  Religious  Controversies.  [GRIFF, 

taigne's  motto  came  to  my  mind  (it  is  mentioned  by 
Pascal)  as  an  appropriate  one  for  me — "Que  sais-je?" 
— beneath  a  pair  of  balances,  though,  by -the -bye,  it 
is  an  ambiguous  one,  and  may  be  taken  in  a  sense 
that  I  desire  to  reprobate,  as  well  as  in  a  Scriptural 
one,  to  which  I  do  not  refer.  I  use  it  in  a  limited 
sense  as  a  representation  of  my  oscillating  judgment. 
On  no  subject  do  I  veer  to  all  points  of  the  compass 
more  frequently  than  on  the  nature  of  the  visible 
Church.  I  am  powerfully  attracted  in  a  certain  direc- 
tion, but,  when  I  am  about  to  settle  there,  counter- 
assertions  shake  me  from  my  position.  I  cannot  en- 
ter into  details,  but  when  we  are  together  I  will  tell 
you  all  my  difficulties  —  that  is,  if  you  will  be  kind 
enough  to  listen.  I  have  been  reading  the  new  prize 
essay  on  "Schism,"  by  Professor  Hoppus,  and  Milner's 
"  Church  History,"  since  I  last  wrote  to  you  :  the  for- 
mer ably  expresses  the  tenets  of  those  who  deny  that 
any  form  of  Church  government  is  so  clearly  dictated 
in  Scripture  as  to  possess  a  divine  right,  and,  conse- 
quently, to  be  binding  on  Christians ;  the  latter,  you 
know,  exhibits  the  views  of  a  moderate  Evangelical 
Episcopalian  on  the  inferences  to  be  drawn  from 
ecclesiastical  remains.  He  equally  repudiates  the 
loud  assertion  of  a  jus  divinum,  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  separatists  from  the  visible  Church,  though  he 
calmly  maintains  the  superiority  of  the  evidence  in 
favor  of  Episcopacy,  of  a  moderate  kind  both  in  power 
and  extent  of  diocese,  as  well  as  the  benefit  of  a 
national  establishment.  I  have  been  skimming  the 
"Portrait  of  an  English  Churchman,"  by  the  Rev. 
W.  Gresley:  this  contains  an  outline  of  the  system  of 
those  who  exclaim  of  the  Anglican  Church  as  the  Jews 
did  of  their  sacred  building  (that  they  clo  it  in  as  rep- 


1839.]  First  Authorship.  41 

rehensible  a  spirit  I  will  not  be  the  judge),  "the  tem- Letter 
pie  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple  of  Lewis, 

zoth  Ma), 

the  Lord  "  is  exclusively  theirs ;  while  the  authors  of  1839. 
the  Oxford  Tracts  go  a  step  further,  and  evince  by 
their  compliments  to  Rome,  as  a  dear  though  erring 
sister,  and  their  attempts  to  give  a  Romish  color  to 
our  ordinance,  with  a  very  confused  and  unscriptural 
statement  of  the  great  doctrine  of  justification,  a  dis- 
position rather  to  fraternize  with  the  members  of  a 
Church  carrying  on  her  brow  the  prophetical  epithets 
applied  by  St.  John  to  the  scarlet  beast,  the  mystery 
of  iniquity,  than  with  pious  Nonconformists.  It  is 
true  they  disclaim  all  this,  and  that  their  opinions  are 
seconded  by  the  extensive  learning,  the  laborious  zeal, 
and  the  deep  devotion  of  those  who  propagate  them  ; 
but  a  reference  to  facts  will  convince  us  that  such  has 
generally  been  the  character  of  heretical  teachers. 
Satan  is  too  crafty  to  commit  his  causa- into  the  hands 
of  those  who  have  nothing  to  recommend  them  to 
approbation.  According  to  their  dogmas,  the  Scotch 
Church  and  the  foreign  Protestant  Churches,  as  well 
as  the  non-Episcopalians  of  our  own  land,  are  wanting 
in  the  essentials  of  existence  as  part  of  the  Church. 

In  the  next  letter  there  is  the  first  allusion  to 
authorship,  but,  from  the  wording  of  the  sentence, 
the  poem  referred  to  has  evidently  not  been  a  first 
attempt. 
I  send  you  some  doggerel  lines,  the  crude  fruit  of  a  Letter 

J  to  Miss 

lonely  walk  last  evening  when  the  words  of  one  of  our  Lews, 

J  i7th  July, 

martyrs  occurred  to  me.     You   must  be  acquainted  l839- 
with  the  idiosyncrasy  of  my  authorship,  which  is,  that 
my  effusions,  once  committed  to  paper,  are  like  the 
laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  that  alter  not. 


42  Poem  Printed.  [GRIFF, 

"Knowing  thai  shortly  I  must  put  of/  this  my  tabernacle." 

— 2  PETER  i.  14. 

"  As  o'er  the  fields  by  evening's  light  I  stray 
I  hear  a  still,  small  whisper — Come  away  ; 
Thou  must  to  this  bright,  lovely  world  soon  say 

Farewell ! 

"  The  mandate  I'd  obey,  my  lamp  prepare, 
Gird  up  my  garments,  give  my  soul  to  pray'r, 
And  say  to  earth,  and  all  that  breathe  earth's  air, 

Farewell ! 

"  Thou  sun,  to  whose  parental  beam  I  owe 
All  that  has  gladden'd  me  while  here  below, 
Moon,  stars,  and  covenant-confirming  bow, 

Farewell ! 

"  Ye  verdant  meads,  fair  blossoms,  stately  trees, 
Sweet  song  of  birds  and  soothing  hum  of  bees, 
Refreshing  odors  wafted  on  the  breeze, 

Farewell ! 

"Ye  patient  servants  of  creation's  Lord, 

Whose  mighty  strength  is  govern'd  by  his  word, 
Whc  raiment,  food,  and  help  in  toil  afford, 

Farewell ! 

"  Books  that  have  been  to  me  as  chests  of  gold, 
Which,  miserlike,  I  secretly  have  told, 
And  for  them  love;  health,  friendship,  peace  have  sold, 

Farewell ! 

"  Blest  volume  !  whose  clear  truth-writ  page  once  known, 
Fades  not  before  heaven's  sunshine  or  hell's  moan, 
To  thee  I  say  not,  of  earth's  gifts  alone, 

Farewell  I 

"  There  shall  my  new-born  senses  find  new  joy, 
New  sounds,  new  sights,  my  eyes  and  ears  employ, 
Nor  fear  that  word  that  here  brings  sad  alloy, 

Farewell !" 

I  had  a  dim  recollection  that  my  wife  had  told 
me  that  this  poem  had  been  printed  somewhere. 


i 839-]         Poem  in  "Christian  Observer"  43 

After  a  long  search  I  found  it  in  the  Christian 
Observer  ior  January,  1840.  The  version  there 
published  has  the  two  following  additional  verses, 
and  is  signed  M.  A.  E.  : 

"  Ye  feebler,  freer  tribes  that  people  air, 
Ye  gaudy  insects,  making  buds  your  lair, 
Ye  that  in  water  shine  and  frolic  there, 

Farewell ! 

"  Dear  kindred,  whom  the  Lord  to  me  has  given, 
Must  the  strong  tie  that  binds  us  now  be  riven  ? 
No  !  say  I — only  till  we  meet  in  heaven, 

Farewell !" 

The  editor  of  the  Christian  Observer  has  added 
this  note  :  "  We  do  not  often  add  a  note  to  a 
poem  :  but  if  St.  John  found  no  temple  in  the  New 
Jerusalem,  neither  will  there  be  any  need  of  a 
Bible ;  for  we  shall  not  then  see  through  a  glass 
darkly — through  the  veil  of  sacraments  or  the  writ- 
ten Word — but  face  to  face.  The  Bible  is  God's 
gift,  but  not  for  heaven's  use.  Still,  on  the  very 
verge  of  heaven  we  may  cling  to  it,  after  we  have 
bid  farewell  to  everything  earthly :  and  this,  per- 
haps, is  what  M.  A.  E.  means." 

In  the  following  letter  we  already  see  the  ten- 
dency to  draw  illustrations  from  science : 
I  Lave  lately  led  so  unsettled  a  life,  and  have  been  Letter 

,  to  Miss 

so  desultory  m  my  employments,  that  my  mind,  nevet  Lewis, 

.  .-,  .  ,  4th  Sept. 

of  the  most  highly  organized  genus,  is  more  than  usu-  1839. 
ally  chaotic,  or,  rather,  it  is  like  a  stratum  of  conglom- 
erated fragments,  that  shows  here  a  jaw  and  rib  of 
some  ponderous  quadruped,  there  a  delicate  alto- 
relievo  of  some  fern-like  plant,  tiny  shells  and  myste- 
rious nondescripts  incrusted  and  united  with  some 
unvaried  and  uninteresting  but  useful  stone.  My 


44  Various  Reading.  [GRIFF, 

mind  presents  just  such  an  assemblage  ol  disjointed 
specimens  of  history,  ancient  and  modern  ;  scraps  ot 
poetry  picked  up  from  Shakespeare,  Covvper,  Words- 
worth, and  Milton  ;  newspaper  topics  ;  morsels  ot  Ad- 
dison  and  Bacon,  Latin  verbs,  geometry,  entomology, 
and  chemistry ;  reviews  and  metaphysics — all  arrest- 
ed and  petrified  and  smothered  by  the  fast-thickening 
every-day  accession  of  actual  events,  relative  anxieties, 
and  household  cares  and  vexations.  How  deplorably 
and  unaccountably  evanescent  are  our  frames  of  mind, 
as  various  as  the  forms  and  hues  of  the  summer 
clouds !  A  single  word  is  sometimes  enough  to  give 
an  entirely  new  mould  to  our  thoughts — at  least,  I  find 
myself  so  constituted;  and  therefore  to  me  it  is  pre- 
eminently important  to  be  anchored  within  the  veil,  so 
that  outward  things  may  be  unable  to  send  me  adrift. 
Write  to  me  as  soon  as  you  can.  Remember  Michael- 
mas is  coming,  and  I  shall  be  engaged  in  matters  so 
nauseating  to  me  that  it  will  be  a  charity  to  console 
me  ;  to  reprove  and  advise  me  no  less. 

I  have  emerged  from  the  slough  of  domestic  troubles, 
or,  rather,  to  speak  quite  clearly,  "malheurs  de  cuisine," 
and  am  beginning  to  take  a  deep  breath  in  my  own 
element,  though  with  a  mortifying  consciousness  that 
my  faculties  have  become  superlatively  obtuse  during 
my  banishment  from  it.  I  have  been  so  self-indulgent 
as  to  possess  myself  of  Wordsworth  at  full  length,  and 
I  thoroughly  like  much  of  the  contents  of  the  first  three 
volumes,  which  I  fancy  are  only  the  low  vestibule  oi'the 
three  remaining  ones.  I  never  before  met  with  so 
many  of  my  own  feelings  expressed  just  as  I  could 
like  them.  The  distress  of  the  lower  classes  in  our 
neighborhood  is  daily  increasing,  from  the  scarcity  oi 
employment  for  weavers,  and  I  seem  sadly  to  have 


1840.]  Buys  Wordsworth's  Poems.  45 

handcuffed  myself  by  unnecessary  expenditure.     To- 
day is  my  2oth  birthday. 

This  allusion  to  Wordsworth  is  interesting,  as  it 
entirely  expresses  the  feeling  she  had  to  him  up  to 
the  day  of  her  death.  One  of  the  very  last  books 
we  read  together  at  Cheyne  Walk  was  Mr.  Freder- 
ick Myers's  "Wordsworth"  in  the  "English  Men 
of  Letters,"  which  she  heartily  enjoyed.  to^Tss 

I  have  just  received  my  second  lesson  in  German.         MdTis'o 
I  know  you  will  be  glad  to  think  of  me  as  thorough-  Letter 

,  .      ,        .  to  Miss 

ly  employed,  as,  indeed,  I  am  to  an.  extent  that  makes  Lewis,  2a 
me  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  accomplish  everything  Friday 
well.  I  have  engaged,  if  possible,  to  complete  the 
chart,1  the  plan  of  which  I  sketched  out  last  year,  by 
November  next,  and  I  am  encouraged  to  believe  that 
it  will  answer  my  purpose  to  print  it.  The  profits 
arising  from  its  sale,  if  any,  will  go  partly  to  Attleboro 
Church,  and  partly  to  a  favorite  object  of  my  own. 
Mrs.  Newdigate  is  very  anxious  that  I  should  do  this, 
and  she  permits  me  to  visit  her  library  when  I  please, 
in  search  of  any  books  that  may  assist  me.  Will  you 
ask  Mr.  Craig  what  he  considers  the  best  authority  for 
the  date  of  the  apostolical  writings?  I  should  like  to 
carry  the  chart  down  to  the  Reformation,  if  my  time 
and  resources  will  enable  me  to  do  so.  We  are  going 
to  have  a  clothing-club,  the  arrangement  and  starting 
of  which  are  left  to  me.  I  am  ashamed  to  run  the  risk 
of  troubling  you,  but  I  should  be  very  grateful  if  you 
could  send  me  an  abstract  of  the  rules  by  which  yours 
is  regulated. 

Our  house  is  now,  and  will  be  for  the  next  two^6^6^ 
months,  miserably  noisy  and  disorderly  with  the  musi-  M^is^o 

1  Of  ecclesiastical  history. 


46  Alterations  in  House.  [GRIFF, 

Letter       cal  operations   of  masons,  carpenters,  and  painters. 

Lewis,  aist  You  know  how  abhorrent  all  this  is  to  my  tastes  and 
|0"  feelings,  taking  all  the  spice  out  of  my  favorite  little 
epithet,  "  this  working-day  world  :"  I  can  no  longer 
use  it  figuratively.  How  impressive  must  the  gradual 
rise  of  Solomon's  Temple  have  been !  each  prepared 
mass  of  virgin  marble  laid  in  reverential  silence.  I 
fancy  Heber  has  compared  it  to  the  growth  of  a  palm. 
Your  nice  miniature  chart,  which  I  shall  carefully 
treasure  up,  has  quite  satisfied  me  that  Dr.  Pearson,  at 
least,  has  not  realized  my  conceptions,  though  it  has 
left  me  still  dubious  as  to  my  own  power  of  doing  so. 
I  will  just  (if  you  can  bear  to  hear  more  of  the  matter) 
give  you  an  idea  of  the  plan,  which  may  have  partly 
faded  from  your  memory.  The  series  of  perpendicular 
columns  will  successively  contain  the  Roman  emper- 
ors, with  their  dates,  the  political  and  religious  state  of 
the  Jews,  the  bishops,  remarkable  men,  and  events  in 
the  several  churches,  a  column  being  devoted  to  each 
of  the  chief  ones,  the  aspect  of  heathenism  and  Juda- 
ism towards  Christianity,  the  chronology  of  the  apos- 
tolical and  patristical  writings,  schisms,  and  heresies, 
General  Councils,  eras  of  corruption  (under  which 
head  the  remarks  would  be  general),  and  I  thought 
possibly  an  application  of  the  apocalyptic  prophecies, 
which  would  merely  require  a  few  figures  and  not  take 
up  room.  I  think  there  must  be  a  break  in  the  chart 
after  the  establishment  of  Christianity  as  the  religion 
of  the  empire,  and  I  have  come  to  a  determination  not 
to  carry  it  beyond  the  first  acknowledgment  of  the  su- 
premacy of  the  Pope  by  Phocas,  in  606,  when  Moham- 
medanism became  a  besom  of  destruction  in  the  hand 
of  the  Lord,  and  completely  altered  the  aspect  of  ec- 
clesiastical history.  So  much  for  this,  at  present,  airy 


1840.]  Religious  Controversies.  47 

project,  about  which  I  hope  never  to  tease  you  more.  Letter 

.  111      to  Miss 

Mr.  Harper  lent  me  a  little  time  ago  a  work  by  the  Lewis,  2is': 
Rev.  W.  Gresley,  begging  me  to  read  it,  as  he  thought 
it  was  calculated  to  make  me  a  proselyte  to  the  opin- 
ions it  advocates.  I  had  skimmed  the  book  before 
("Portrait  of  an  English  Churchman"),  but  I  read  it 
attentively  a  second  time,  and  was  pleased  with  the 
spirit  of  piety  that  breathes  throughout.  His  last 
work  is  one  in  a  similar  style  ("  The  English  Citizen"), 
which  I  have  cursorily  read ;  and,  as  they  are  both 
likely  to  be  seen  by  you,  I  want  to  know  your  opinion 
of  them.  Mine  is  this :  that  they  are  sure  to  have  a 
powerful  influence  on  the  minds  of  small  readers  and 
shallow  thinkers,  as,  from  the  simplicity  and  clearness 
with  which  the  author,  by  his  beau-ideal  characters, 
enunciates  his  sentiments,  they  furnish  a  magazine  of 
easily  wielded  weapons  for  morning- calling  and  evening- 
party  controversialists,  as  well  as  that  really  honest 
minds  will  be  inclined  to  think  they  have  found  a  rest- 
ing-place amid  the  footballing  of  religious  parties. 
But  it  appears  to  me  that  there  is  unfairness  in  arbi- 
trarily selecting  a  train  of  circumstances  and  a  set  of 
characters  as  a  development  of  a  class  of  opinions. 
In  this  way  we  might  make  atheism  appear  wonder- 
fully calculated  to  promote  social  happiness.  I  re- 
member, as  I  dare  say  you  do,  a  very  amiable  atheist 
depicted  by  Buhver  in  "  Devereux ;"  and  for  some 
time  after  the  perusal  of  that  book,  which  I  read  seven 
or  eight  years  ago,2  I  was  considerably  shaken  by  the 
impression  that  religion  was  not  a  requisite  to  moral 
excellence. 

Have  you  not  alternating  seasons  of  mental  stagna- 

1  The  Squire  of  Coton. 

*  When  she  would  be  thirteen  years  old. 


48       Oxford  Tracts — "  Christian  Year"    [GRIFF, 

L«tter  tion  and  activity?  just  such  as  the  political  economists 
Lewi^nst  say  there  must  be  in  a  nation's  pecuniary  condition — 
t<x  all  one's  precious  specie,  Time,  going  out  to  procure  a 
stock  of  commodities,  while  one's  own  manufactures 
are  too  paltry  to  be  worth  vending.  I  am  just  in  that 
condition  —  partly,  I  think,  owing  to  my  not  having 
met  with  any  steel  to  sharpen  my  edge  against  for  the 
last  three  weeks.  I  am  going  to  read  a  volume  of  the 
Oxford  Tracts  and  the  "  Lyra  Apostolica  :"  the  former 
I  almost  shrink  from  the  labor  of  conning,  but  the 
other  I  confess  I  am  attracted  towards  by  some  highly 
poetical  extracts  that  I  have  picked  up  in  various 
quarters.  I  have  just  bought  Mr.  Keble's  "  Christian 
Year,"  a  volume  of  sweet  poetry  that  perhaps  you 
know.  The  fields  of  poesy  look  more  lovely  than 
ever,  now  I  have  hedged  myself  in  the  geometrical  re- 
gions of  fact,  where  I  can  do  nothing  but  draw  paral- 
lels and  measure  differences  in  a  double  sense, 
uf MUs  '  I  w'^  onty  kint  t^iat  tnere  seems  a  probability  of 
a^h'May  my  being  an  unoccupied  damsel,  of  my  being  severed 
l&*°-  from  all  the  ties  that  have  hitherto  given  my  existence 
the  semblance  of  a  usefulness  beyond  that  of  making 
up  the  requisite  quantum  of  animal  matter  in  the  uni- 
verse. A  second  important  intimation  respecting  my 
worthy  self  is  one  that,  I  confess,  I  impart  without 
one  sigh,  though  perhaps  you  will  think  my  callous- 
ness discreditable.  It  is  that  Seeley  &  Burnside  have 
just  published  a  Chart  of  Ecclesiastical  History, 
doubtless  giving  to  my  airy  vision  a  local  habitation 
and  a  name.  I  console  all  my  little  regrets  by  think- 
ing that  what  is  thus  evidenced  to  be  a  desideratum 
has  been  executed  much  better  than  if  left  to  my  slow 

1  Written  probably  in  view  of  her  brother's  marriage. 


1840.]  Italian  Studies.  49 

fingers  and  slower  head.     I  fear  I  am  laboriously  do-  Letter 

.      '  '  to  Miss 

ing  nothing,  for  I  am  beguiled  by  the  fascination  that  Lewis, 
the  study  of  languages  has  for  my  capricious  mind.     1 1840. 
could  e'en  give  myself  up  to  making  discoveries  in  the 
world  of  words. 

May  I  trouble  you  to  procure  for  me  an  Italian  book  Le^s 
recommended  by  Mr.  Brezzi — Silvio  Pellico's  "Le  mie  £ew\Siin 
Prigioni ;"  if  not, "  Storia  d'  Italia  "  ?    If  they  are  cheap,  ^wt-  ' 

I  Should  like   both.  day,  June, 

1840. 
I  shall  have,  I  hope,  a  little  trip  with  my  father 

next  week  into  Derbyshire,  and  this  "  lark  "  will  prob- 
ably be  beneficial  to  me ;  so  do  not  imagine  I  am  in- 
viting you  to  come  and  hear  moaning,  when  you  need 
all  attainable  relaxation. 

Your  letter  greeted  me  last  night  on  my  arrival  from  Le"e.r 

to  J  to  Miss 

Staffordshire.     The  prospectus  of  Mr.  Henslow's  work  LeJ"Ts' 

230  June, 

is  as  marvellous  to  my  ignorant  conceptions  as  the  I?'4°- 
prophecies  of  the  wonders  of  the  steam-engine  would 
have  been  to  some  British  worthy  in  the  days  of  Carac- 
tacus.  I  can  only  gape  as  he  would  probably  have 
done.  I  hope  Mr.  H.  has  not  imitated  certain  show- 
keepers,  who  give  so  exaggerated  a  representation  of 
their  giantess,  on  the  outside,  that  the  spectators  have 
disappointment  for  their  cash  within. 

If  I  do  not  see  you,  how  shall  I  send  your  "Don 
Quixote,"  which  I  hope  soon  to  finish  ?  I  have  been 
sadly  interrupted  by  other  books  that  have  taken  its 
scanty  allowance  of  time,  or  I  should  have  made  bet- 
ter haste  with  it.  Will  you  try  to  get  me  Spenser's 
"  Faery  Queen  "  ?  the  cheapest  edition,  with  a  glossary, 
which  is  quite  indispensable,  together  with  a  clear  and 
correct  type.  I  have  had  some  treats  on  my  little  ex- 
cursion, not  the  least  of  which  was  the  gazing  on  some 
— albeit  the  smallest — of  the  "everlasting  hills,"  and 
3 


50  Trip  to  Staffordshire.  [GRIFF, 

Letter       on   those  noblest  children  of  the  earth,  fine,  healthy 

to  Miss 

Lewis,       trees,  as  independent  in  their  beauty  as  virtue  :   set 

2jd  June, 

1840.  them  where  you  will,  they  adorn,  and  need  not  adorn- 
ment. Father  indulged  me  with  a  sight  of  Ashborne 
Church,  the  finest  mere  parish  church  in  the  kingdom 
— in  the  interior ;  of  Alton  Gardens,  where  I  saw  actu- 
ally what  I  have  often  seen  mentally — the  bread-fruit 
tree,  the  fan-palm,  and  the  papyrus ;  and  last,  of  Lich- 
field  Cathedral,  where,  besides  the  exquisite  architect- 
ural beauties,  both  external  and  internal,  I  saw  Chan- 
trey's  famous  monument  of  the  Sleeping  Children. 
There  is  a  tasteless  monument  to  the  learned  and 
brilliant  female  pedant  of  Lichfield,  Miss  Seward,  with 
a  poor  epitaph  by  Sir  Walter  Scott.  In  the  town  we 
saw  a  large  monument  erected  to  Johnson's  memory, 
showing  his  Titanic  body,  in  a  sitting  posture,  on  the 
summit  of  a  pedestal  which  is  ornamented  with  bas- 
reliefs  of  three  passages  in  his  life  :  his  penance  in 
Uttoxeter  Market,  his  chairing  on  the  shoulders  of  his 
schoolmates,  and  his  listening  to  the  preaching  of 
Sacheverel.  The  statue  is  opposite  to  the  house  in 
which  Johnson  was  born — altogether  inferior  to  that 
in  St.  Paul's,  which  shook  me  almost  as  much  as  a 
real  glance  from  the  literary  monarch.  I  am  ashamed 
to  send  you  so  many  ill-clothed  nothings.  My  excuse 
shall  be  a  state  of  head  that  calls  for  four  leeches  be- 
fore I  can  attack  Mrs.  Somerville's  "  Connection  of 
the  Physical  Sciences." 

Letter  I  write  with  a  very  tremulous  hand,  as  you  will  per- 

to  Miss  .  .    r 

Lewis,       ceive  ;  both  this,  and  many  other  defects  in  my  letter, 

day  mom-  are  attributable  to  a  very  mighty  cause — no  other  than 

the  boiling  of  currant  jelly  !     I  have  had  much  of  this 

kind  of  occupation  lately,  and  I  grieve  to  say  I  have 

not  gone  through  it  so  cheerfully  as  the  character  of  a 


1840.]     "Faery  Queen"  and  "Do?i  Quixote."       51 
Christian  who  professes  to  do  a!!,  even  the  most  trifling,  Letter 

to'  to  Miss 

duty,  as  the  Lord  demands.     My  mind  is  consequently  Lewis, 

•"  '  '  July,  Mon- 

run  all  wild,  and  bears  nothing  but  dog-roses,     I  am  day  morn- 
ing, 1840. 
truly  obliged  to  you  for  getting  me  Spenser.     How 

shall  I  send  to  you  "  Don  Quixote,"  which  I  have  quite 
finished  ? 

I  believe  it  is  decided  that  father  and  I  should  leave  Le",e.r 

to  Miss 

Griff  and  take  up  our  residence  somewhere  in  the  *itwis', 

stn  J  uly> 

neighborhood  of  Coventry,  if  we  can  obtain  a  suitable  l84°' 
house,  and  this  is  at  present  a  matter  of  anxiety.  So 
you  see  I  am  likely  still  to  have  a  home  where  I  can 
independently  welcome  you.  I  am  really  so  plunged 
in  an  abyss  of  books,  preserves,  and  sundry  important 
trivialities,  that  I  must  send  you  this  bare  proof  that  I 
have  not  cast  the  remembrance  of- you  to  a  dusty  cor- 
ner of  my  heart.  Ever  believe  that  "  my  heart  is  as 
thy  heart,"  that  you  may  rely  on  me  as  a  second  self, 
and  that  I  shall,  with  my  usual  selfishness,  lose  no  op- 
portunity of  gratifying  my  duplicate. 

The  Epistle  to  the  Colossians  is  pre-eminently  rich  ^j^ 
in  the  coloring  with  which  it  portrays  the  divine  ful-  L2et^u 
ness  contained  in  the  Saviour,  contrasted  with  the  beg- 184°- 
garly  elements  that  a  spirit  of  self-righteousness  would, 
in  some  way,  mingle  with  the  light  of  life,  the  filthy 
rags  it  would    tack  round  the  "fine  raiment  "of  his 
righteousness.     I  have  been  reading  it  in  connection 
with  a  train  of  thought  suggested  by  the  reading  of 
"  Ancient  Christianity  and  the  Oxford  Tracts,"  by  Isaac 
Taylor,  one  of  the  most  eloquent,  acute,  and  pious  of 
writers.    Five  numbers  only  have  yet  appeared.    Have 
you  seen  them  ?     If  not,  I  should  like  to  send  you  an 
abstract  of  his  argument.     I  have  gulped  it  (pardon 
my  coarseness)  in  a  most  reptile-like  fashion.     I  must 
chew  it  thoroughly  to  facilitate  its  assimilation  with  my 


52  Reads  Isaac   Taylor.  [GRIFF, 

mental  frame.  When  your  pupils  can  relish  Church 
history,  I  venture  to  recommend  the  chart  lately  pub- 
lished by  Seeley  &  Burnside — far  superior  in  concep- 
tion to  mine — as  being  more  compendious,  yet  an- 
swering the  purpose  of  presenting  epochs  as  nuclei 
round  which  less  important  events  instinctively  clus- 
ter. 

Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry,  who  was  then  Miss 
Mary  Sibree,  daughter  of  a  Nonconformist  minister 
there,  and  whose  acquaintance  Miss  Evans  made  a 
year  or  two  later  in  Coventry,  writes  in  regard  to 
this  book  of  Isaac  Taylor's  :  "  In  her  first  conver- 
sations with  my  father  and  mother,  they  were  much 
interested  in  learning  in  what  high  estimation  she 
held  the  writings  of  Isaac  Taylor.  My  father 
thought  she  was  a  little  disappointed  on  hearing  that 
he  was  a  Dissenter.  She  particularly  enjoyed  his 
'  Saturday  Evening,'  and  spoke  in  years  after  to 
me  of  his  'Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,'  as 
exciting  thought  and  leading  speculation  further 
than  he  would  have  desired.  When  his  '  Ancient 
Christianity '  was  published  in  numbers,  Miss  Evans 
took  it  in,  and  kindly  forwarded  the  numbers  to  us. 
From  the  impression  made  on  my  own  mind  by  un- 
favorable facts  about  '  The  Fathers,'  and  from  her 
own  subsequent  references  to  this  work,  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  it  had  its  influence  in  unsettling  her 
views  of  Christianity." 

I  have  thought  of  you  as  the  one  who  has  ever  shown 
herself  so  capable  of  consideration  for  my  weakness 
and  sympathy  in  my  warm  and  easily  fastened  affec- 
tions. My  imagination  is  an  enemy  that  must  be  cast 
down  ere  I  can  enjoy  peace  or  exhibit  uniformity  of 
character.  I  know  not  which  of  its  caprices  I  have 


1840.]  Shelley  s  "  Cloud"  53 

most  to  dread  —  that  which  incites  it  to  spread  sack-  Letter 
cloth  "  above,  below,  around,"  or  that  which  makes  it  Lewis, 
"cheat  my  eye  with  blear  illusion,  and  beget  strange  1840. 
dreams  "  of  excellence  and  beauty  in  beings  and  things 
of  only  working-day  price.  The  beautiful  heavens  that 
we  have  lately  enjoyed  awaken  in  me  an  indescribable 
sensation  of  exultation  in  existence,  and  aspiration  af- 
ter all  that  is  suited  to  engage  an  immaterial  nature. 
I  have  not  read  very  many  of  Mr.  B.'s  poems,  nor  any 
with  much  attention.  I  simply  declare  my  determi- 
nation not  to  feed  on  the  broth  of  literature  when  I 
can  get  strong  soup  —  such,  for  instance,  as  Shelley's 
"  Cloud,"  the  five  or  six  stanzas  of  which  contain  more 
poetic  metal  than  is  beat  out  in  all  Mr.  B.'s  pages. 
You  must  know  I  have  had  bestowed  on  me  the  very 
pretty  cognomen  of  Clematis,  which,  in  the  floral  lan- 
guage, means  "mental  beauty."  I  cannot  find  in  my 
heart  to  refuse  it,  though,  like  many  other  appellations, 
it  has  rather  the  appearance  of  a  satire  than  a  compli- 
ment. Addio  !  I  will  send  your  floral  name  in  my  next, 
when  I  have  received  my  dictionary.  My  hand  and 
mind  are  wearied  with  writing  four  pages  of  German 
and  a  letter  of  business. 

My   dear   Veronica  —  which,  being   interpreted,  is  Letter 
"  fidelity  in  friendship  "  —  Last  week  I  was  absent  from  Lewis,  ist 

Oct.  1840. 

home  from  Wednesday  to  Saturday,  in  quest  of  the 
"coy  maiden,"  Pleasure  —  at  least,  nominally  so,  the 
real  motive  being  rather  to  gratify  another's  feeling.1 
I  heard  the  "Messiah  "on  Thursday  morning  at  Bir- 
mingham, and  some  beautiful  selections  from  other 
oratories  of  Handel  and  Haydn  on  Friday.  With  a 
stupid,  drowsy  sensation,  produced  by  standing  sentinel 


1  Visit  to  Miss  Rawlins, 


54  Oratorios  at  Birmingham.  [GRIFF, 

Letter       over  damson  cheese  and  a  warm  stove,  I  cannot  do  bet- 
to  Miss 
Lewis,  ist  ter  than  ask  you  to  read,  if  accessible,  Wordsworth's 

Oct.  1840.  ; 

short  poem  on  the  "  Power  of  Sound,"  with  which 
I  have  just  been  delighted.  I  have  made  an  altera- 
tion in  my  plans  with  Mr.  Brezzi,  and  shall  hencefor- 
ward take  Italian  and  German  alternately,  so  that  I 
shall  not  be  liable  to  the  consciousness  of  having 
imperative  employment  for  every  interstice  of  time. 
There  seems  a  greater  affinity  between  German  and 
my  mind  than  Italian,  though  less  new  to  me,  possesses. 

I  am  reading  Schiller's  "Maria  Stuart," and  Tasso. 

I  was  pleased  with  a  little  poem  I  learned  a  week 
or  two  ago  in  German ;  and,  as  I  want  you  to  like  it,  I 
have  just  put  the  idea  it  contains  into  English  dog- 
gerel, which  quite  fails  to  represent  the  beautiful  sim- 
plicity and  nature  of  the  original,  but  yet,  I  hope,  will 
give  you  sufficiently  its  sense  to  screen  the  ocliousness 
of  the  translation.  Eccola  : 

QUESTION   AND    ANSWER. 

" '  Where  blooms,  O  my  father,  a  thornless  rose  ?' 

'  That  can  I  not  tell  thee,  my  child  ; 
Not  one  on  the  bosom  of  earth  e'er  grows 
But  wounds  whom  its  charms  have  beguiled.' 

"  '  Would  I'd  a  rose  on  my  bosom  to  lie, 

But  I  shrink  from  the  piercing  thorn  : 
I  long,  but  I  dare  not  its  point  defy ; 
I  long,  and  I  gaze  forlorn.' 

"  '  Not  so,  O  my  child — round  the  stem  again 

Thy  resolute  fingers  entwine  ; 
Forego  not  the  joy  for  its  sister,  pain — 
Let  the  rose,  the  sweet  rose,  be  thine.' " 

Would  not  a  parcel  reach  you  by  railway? 

This  is  the  first  allusion  to  the  new  means  of 
locomotion,  which  would,  no  doubt,  be  attracting 


1840.]  First  Railway.  55 

much  interest  in  the  Griff  household,  as  valuation 
was  a  large  part  of  Mr.  Evans's  business.  Long- 
years  after,  George  Eliot  wrote  : 

"  Our  midland  plains  have  never  lost  their  familiar  ex- 
pression and  conservative  spirit  for  me ;  yet  at  every 
other  mile,  since  I  first  looked  on  them,  some  sign  of 
world-wide  change,  some  new  direction  of  human  labor, 
has  wrought  itself  into  what  one  may  call  the  speech  of 
the  landscape. .  . .  There  comes  a  crowd  of  burly  navvies 
with  pickaxes  and  barrows,  and  while  hardly  a  wrinkle 
is  made  in  the  fading  mother's  face,  or  a  new  curve  of 
health  in  the  blooming  girl's,  the  hills  are  cut  through, 
or  the  breaches  between  them  spanned,  we  choose  our 
level,  and  the  white  steam-pennon  flies  along  it." 

My  only  reason  for  writing  is    to  obtain  a  timely  Letter 

•11  i  11-1  •    n          •       to  Miss 

promise  that  you  will  spend  your  holidays  chiefly  with  Lewis, 

'        .     27th  Oct. 

me,  that  we  may  once  more  meet  among  scenes  which,  1840. 
now  I  am  called  on  to  leave  them,  I  find  to  have 
grown  in  to  my  affections.  Carlyle  says  that  to  the 
artisans  of  Glasgow  the  world  is  not  one  of  blue  skies 
and  a  green  carpet,  but  a  world  of  copperas-fumes, 
low  cellars,  hard  wages,  "  striking,"  and  whiskey  ;  and  if 
the  recollection  of  this  picture  did  not  remind  me  that 
gratitude  should  be  my  reservoir  of  feeling,  that  into 
which  all  that  comes  from  above  or  around  should  be 
received  as  a  source  of  fertilization  for  my  soul,  I 
should  give  a  lachrymose  parody  of  the  said  descrip- 
tion, and  tell  you  ail-seriously  what  I  now  tell  you 
playfully,  that  mine  is  too  often  a  world  such  as  Wilkie 
can  so  well  paint,  a  walled-in  world  furnished  with  all 
the  details  which  he  remembers  so  accurately,  and  the 
least  interesting  part  whereof  is  often  what  I  suppose 
must  be  designated  the  intelligent ;  but  I  deny  that  it 
has  even  a  comparative  claim  to  the  appellation,  for 


56  Social  Dangers.  [GRIFF, 

Letter       give  me  a  three-legged  stool,  and  it  will  call  up  associa- 

to  Miss 

Lewis,       tions — moral,  poetical,  mathematical — if  I  do  but  ask 

27th  Oct. 

1840.  it,  while  some  human  beings  have  the  odious  power  of 
contaminating  the  very  images  that  are  enshrined  as 
our  soul's  arcana.  Their  baleful  touch  has  the  same 
effect  as  would  a  uniformity  in  the  rays  of  light — it 
turns  all  objects  to  pale  lead-color.  O  how  luxuriously 
joyous  to  have  the  wind  of  heaven  blow  on  one  after 
being  stived  in  a  human  atmosphere — to  feel  one's 
heart  leap  up  after  the  pressure  that  Shakespeare  so 
admirably  describes:  "When  a  man's  wit  is  not  sec- 
onded by  the  forward  chick  understanding,  it  strikes  a 
man  as  dead  as  a  large  reckoning  in  a  small  room." 
But  it  is  time  I  check  this  Byronic  invective,  and,  in  do- 
ing so,  I  am  reminded  of  Corinne's,  or  rather  Oswald's, 
reproof — "La  vie  est  un  combat  pas  un  hymne."  We 
should  aim  to  be  like  a  plant  in  the  chamber  of  sick- 
ness— dispensing  purifying  air  even  in  a  region  that 
turns  all  pale  its  verdure,  and  cramps  its  instinctive 
propensity  to  expand.  Society  is  a  wide  nursery  of 
plants,  where  the  hundreds  decompose  to  nourish  the 
future  ten,  after  giving  collateral  benefits  to  their  con- 
temporaries destined  for  a  fairer  garden.  An  awful 
thought!  one  so  heavy  that  if  our  souls  could  once 
sustain  its  whole  weight,  or,  rather,  if  its  whole  weight 
were  once  to  drop  on  them,  they  would  break  and 
burst  their  tenements.  How  long  will  this  continue? 
The  cry  of  the  martyrs  heard  by  St.  John  finds  an  echo 
in  every  heart  that,  like  Solomon's,  groans  under  "  the 
outrage  and  oppression  with  which  earth  is  filled." 
Events  are  now  so  momentous,  and  the  elements  of 
society  in  so  chemically  critical  a  state,  that  a  drop 
seems  enough  to  change  its  whole  form. 

I  am  reading  Harris's  "  Great  Teacher,"  and  am 


Sensitiveness.  57 

innig  bewegt,  as  a  German  would  say,  by  its  stirring  Letter 

•  to  Miss 

eloquence,  which  leaves  you  no  time  or  strength  for  a  Lewis, 
cold  estimate  of  the  writer's  strict  merits.  I  wish  1 1840. 
could  read  some  extracts  to  you.  Isaac  Taylor's  work 
is  not  yet  complete.  When  it  is  so,  I  hope  to  reperuse 
it.  Since  I  wrote  to  you  I  have  had  Aime  Martin's 
work,  "  L'Education  des  Meres,"  lent  to  me,  and  I 
have  found  it  to  be  the  real  Greece  whence  "Woman's 
Mission  "  has  only  imported  to  us  a  few  marbles — 
but!  Martin  is  a  soi-disant  rational  Chris tianj if  I  mis- 
take him  not.  I  send  you  an  epitaph  which  he  men- 
tions on  a  tomb  in  Paris — that  of  a  mother :  "  Dors 
en  paix,  O  ma  mere,  ton  fils  t'obeira  toujours."  I  am 
reading  eclectically  Mrs.  Hemans's  poems,  and  venture 
to  recommend  to  your  perusal,  if  unknown  to  you,  one 
of  the  longest  ones — "  The  Forest  Sanctuary."  I  can 
give  it  my  pet  adjective — exquisite. 

I  have  adopted  as  my  motto,  "  Cerium  pete  finem  " — 
seek  a  sure  end.1 

Come  when  you  would  best  like  to  do  so  :   if  my  Le"e.r 

J  •'to  Miss 

heart  beat  at  all  at  the  time,  it  will  be  with  a  more  Lewis,  5* 

Dec.  1840- 

rapid  motion  than  the  general,  from  the  joy  of  seeing 
you.  I  cannot  promise  you  more  than  calmness  when 
that  flush  is  past,  for  I  am  aweary,  aweary — longing 
for  rest,  which  seems  to  fly  from  my  very  anticipations. 
But  this  wrought-up  sensitiveness  which  makes  me 
shrink  from  all  contact  is,  I  know,  not  for  communica- 
tion or  sympathy,  and  is,  from  that  very  character,  a 
kind  of  trial  best  suited  for  me.  Whatever  tends  to 
render  us  ill-contented  with  ourselves,  and  more  ear- 
nest aspirants  after  perfect  truth  and  goodness,  is  gold, 
though  it  come  to  us  all  molten  and  burning,  and  we 

>  By  a  curious  coincidence,  when  she  became  Mrs.  Cross,  this 
actually  was  her  motto. 

•>* 


$8  Furnishing  New  House.  [GRIFF, 

know  not  our  treasure  until  we  have  had  long  smart- 
ing. 

t^Miss         -^  *s  iropossible,  to  me  at  least,  to  be  poetical  in  cold 
^sTrJec    weather.     I  understand  the  Icelanders  have  much  na- 
l84°-         tional  poetry,  but  I  guess  it  was  written  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  boiling  springs.     I  will  promise  to  be 
as  cheerful  and  as  Christmas-like  as  my  rickety  body 
and  chameleon-like  spirits  will  allow.     I  am  about  to 
commence  the  making  of  mince-pies,  with  all  the  in- 
teresting sensations  characterizing  young  enterprise  or 
effort. 

^je.r  Happily,  the  moody,  melancholy  temperament  has 

Hrt       some  counterbalancing  advantages  to  those  of  the  san- 

27th  Jan. 

'84*-  guine  :  it  does  sometimes  meet  with  results  more  favor- 
able than  it  expected,  and  by  its  knack  of  imagining 
the  pessimus,  cheats  the  world  of  its  power  to  disap- 
point. The  very  worm-like  originator  of  this  coil  of 
sentiment  is  the  fact  that  you  write  more  cheerfully  of 
yourself  than  I  had  been  thinking  of  you,  and  that,  ergo, 
I  am  pleased. 

toMlss         On  Monday  and  Tuesday  my  father  and  I  were  oc- 
jniTFeb    cupied  with  the  sale  of  furniture  at  our  new  house :  it 
1841-         is  probable  that  we  shall  migrate  thither  in  a  month. 
I  shall  be  incessantly  hurried  until  after  our  departure, 
but  at  present  I  have  to  be  grateful  for  a  smooth  pas- 
sage through  contemplated  difficulties.     Sewing  is  my 
staple  article  of  commerce  with  the  hard  trader,  Time. 
Now  the  wind  has  veered  to  the  south  I  hope  to  do 
much  more,  and  that  with  greater  zest  than  I  have 
done  for  many  months — I  mean,  of  all  kinds. 

I  have  been  reading  the  three  volumes  of  the  "  Life 
and  Times  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,"  and  am  as  eager- 
ly waiting  for  the  fourth  and  last  as  any  voracious 
novel-reader  for  Bulwer's  last.  I  am  afraid  I  am  get- 


1841.]  War's  Purgations.  59 

ting  quite  martial  in  my  spirit,  and,  in  the  warmth  of  Letter 

J      r  '  to  Miss 

rny  sympathy  for  Turenne  and  Conde,  losing  my  hatred  ^'1,:  , 
of  war.  Such  a  conflict  between  individual  and  moral  ^v- 
influence  is  no  novelty.  But  certainly  war,  though  the 
heaviest  scourge  with  which  the  divine  wrath  against 
sin  is  manifested  in  Time,  has  been  a  necessary  vent 
for  impurities  and  a  channel  for  tempestuous  passions 
that  must  have  otherwise  made  the  whole  earth,  like 
the  land  of  the  devoted  Canaanites,  to  vomit  forth  the 
inhabitants  thereof.  Awful  as  such  a  sentiment  ap- 
pears, it  seems  to  me  that  in  the  present  condition  of 
man  (and  I  do  not  mean  tlrs  in  the  sense  that  Cowper 
does),  such  a  purgation  of  the  body  politic  is  probably 
essential  to  its  health.  A  foreign  war  would  soon  put 
an  end  to  our  national  humors,  that  are  growing  to  so 
alarming  a  head. 

What  do  you  think  of  the  progress  of  architecture  Letter 

J  to  Miss 

as  a  subject  for  poetry  ?  Lewis,  sth 

'  Mch.  1841 

I  am  just  about  to  set  out  on  a  purchasing  expedi- 
tion to  Coventry  :  you  may  therefore  conceive  that  I 
am  full  of  little  plans  and  anxieties,  and  will  under- 
stand why  I  should  be  brief.  I  hope  by  the  close  of 
next  week  that  we  and  our  effects  shall  be  deposited 
at  Foleshill,  and  until  then  and  afterwards  I  shall  be 
fully  occupied,  so  that  I  am  sure  you  will  not  expect 
to  hear  from  me  for  the  next  six  weeks.  One  little  bit 
of  unreasonableness  you  must  grant  me — the  request 
for  a  letter  from  yourself  within  that  time. 


SUMMARY. 

AUGUST    l8,  1838,  TO   MARCH   8,   1841. 

Letters  to  Miss  Lewis — First  visit  to  London — Religious  ascet- 
icism—  Pascal  —  Hannah  More's  letters — Young's  "Infidel  Re- 
claimed"— Michaelmas  visitors — "Life  of  Wilberforce " — Nine- 


60  Summary  of  Chapter  L  [GRIFF. 

teenth  birthday — Oratorio  at  Coventry — Religious  objections  to 
music — Letters  to  Mrs.  Samuel  Evans — Religious  reflections — Be- 
setting sin  ambition — Letters  to  Miss  Lewis — Objections  to  fiction- 
reading — Religious  contentions  on  the  nature  of  the  visible  Church — 
First  poem — Account  of  books  read  and  studies  pursued — Words- 
worth— Twentieth  birthday — German  begun — Plan  of  Chart  of  Ec- 
clesiastical History — Religious  controversies — Oxford  Tracts — 
"Lyra  Apostojica" — "Christian  Year" — Chart  of  Ecclesiastical 
History  forestalled — Italian  begun — Trip  to  Derbyshire  and  Staf- 
fordshire— "Don  Quixote" — Spenser's  "Faery  Queen" — Mrs. 
Somerville's  "  Connection  of  the  Physical  Sciences  " — Dislike  of 
housekeeping  work — Removal  to  Coventry  decided — "Ancient 
Christianity  and  the  Oxford Tracts,"by  Isaac  Taylor,  and  Mrs.  John 
Cash's  impression  of  its  effect — Determination  not  to  feed  on  the 
broth  of  literature — Visit  to  Birmingham  to  hear  the  "  Messiah  " — 
Reading  Schiller's  "  Maria  Stuart,"  and  Tasso — Translation  of 
German  poem — Depression  of  surroundings  at  Griff — Reading 
Harris's  "Great  Teacher,"  Aime  Martin's  "  L'Education  des 
Meres,"  and  Mrs.  Hemans's  Poems  —  Selling  furniture  at  new 
house — Sewing — Reading  "  Life  and  Times  of  Louis  XIV." — Re- 
moval to  Foleshill  road,  Coventry. 


CHAPTER  II. 

NEW  circumstances  now  created  a  change  almost 
amounting  to  a  revolution  in  Miss  Evans's  life. 
Mr.  Isaac  Evans,  who  had  been  associated  for  some 
time  with  his  father  in  the  land  -  agency  business, 
married,  and  it  was  arranged  that  he  should  take 
over  the  establishment  at  Griff.  This  led  to  the 
removal  in  March,  1841,  of  Mr.  Robert  Evans  and 
his  daughter  to  a  house  on  the  Foleshill  road,  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Coventry.  The 
house  is  still  standing,  although  considerably  al- 
tered— a  semi-detached  house  with  a  good  bit  of 
garden  round  it,  and  from  its  upper  windows  a  wide 
view  over  the  surrounding  country,  the  immediate 
foreground  being  unfortunately,  however,  disfigured 
by  the  presence  of  mills  and  chimneys.  It  is  town 
life  now  instead  of  country  life,  and  we  feel  the  ef- 
fects at  once  in  the  tone  of  the  subsequent  letters. 
The  friendships  now  formed  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bray  and  Miss  Sara  Hennell  particularly,  and  the 
being  brought  within  reach  of  a  small  circle  of  cul- 
tivated people  generally,  render  this  change  of 
residence  an  exceedingly  important  factor  in  George 
Eliot's  development.  It  chanced  that  the  new 
house  was  next  door  to  Mrs.  Pears',  a  sister  of  Mr. 
Bray,  and  as  there  had  been  some  acquaintance  in 
days  gone  by  between  him  and  the  family  at  Griff, 
this  close  neighborhood  led  to  an  exchange  of  visits. 
The  following  extracts  from  letters  to  Miss  Lewis 


62  Coventry  Change.  [FOLESHILL, 

show  how  the  acquaintance  ripened,  and  will  give 
some  indications  of  the  first  impressions  of  Coven- 
try life  : 

Le"e.r       Last  evening  I  mentioned  you  to  my  neighbor  (Mrs. 

Lewis,       Pears),  who  is  growing  into  the  more  precious  charac- 

Saturday  r 

evening,     ^er  of  a  friend.     I  have  seriously  to  be  thankful  for  far 

April,  1 841. 

better  health  than  I  have  possessed,  I  think,  for  years, 
and  I  am  imperatively  called  on  to  trade  diligently 
with  this  same  talent.  I  am  likely  to  be  more  and 
more  busy,  if  I  succeed  in  a  project  that  is  just  now 
occupying  my  thoughts  and  feelings.  I  seem  to  be 
tried  in  a  contrary  mode  to  that  in  which  most  of  my 
dearest  friends  are  being  tutored — tried  in  the  most 
dangerous  way — by  prosperity.  Solomon  says,  "  In 
the  day  of  prosperity  be  joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  ad- 
versity consider."  It  seems  to  me  that  a  transposi- 
tion, vice  versd,  of  the  admonitions  would  be  equally 
salutary  and  just.  Truly,  as  the  prophet  of  Selwyn 
has  told  us,  "  Heaven  is  formidable  in  its  favors." 
Not  that  a  wise  and  grateful  reception  of  blessings 
obliges  us  to  stretch  our  faces  to  the  length  of  one  of 
Cromwell's  Barebones  ;  nor  to  shun  that  joyous,  bird- 
like  enjoyment  of  things  (which,  though  perishable  as 
to  their  actual  existence,  will  be  embalmed  to  eternity 
in  the  precious  spices  of  gratitude)  that  is  distinct  from 
levity  and  voluptuousness.  I  am  really  crowded  with 
engagements  just  now,  and  I  have  added  one  to  the 
number  of  my  correspondents. 
Letter  The  whole  of  last  week  was  devoted  to  a  bride's- 

to  Miss 

Lewis,       maid's1  duties,  and  each  clay  of  this  has  been  partially 

April,  1841. 

occupied  in  paying  or  receiving  visits.     I  have  a  calm 
in  sea  and  sky  that  I  doubt  not  will  ere  long  be  inter- 

1  Brother's  marriage. 


1841.]  Religious  Aspirations.  63 

runted.     This  is  not  our  rest,  if  we  are  among  those  Letter 

c  •      ,  ,  toM.iss 

for  whom  there  remameth  one,  and  to  pass  through  Lewis, 

life  without  tribulation  (or,  as  Jeremy  Taylor  beauti- 
fully says,  with  only  such  a  measure  of  it  as  may  be 
compared  to  an  artificial  discord  in  music,  which 
nurses  the  ear  for  the  returning  harmony)  would  leave 
us  destitute  of  one  of  the  marks  that  invariably  ac- 
company salvation,  and  of  that  fellowship  in  the  suf- 
ferings of  the  Redeemer  which  can  alone  work  in  us 
a  resemblance  to  one  ot  the  most  prominent  parts  of 
his  divinely  perfect  character,  and  enable  us  to  obey 
the  injunction,  "  In  patience  possess  your  souls."  I 
have  often  observed  how,  in  secular  things,  active  oc- 
cupation, in  procuring  the  necessaries  of  life  renders 
the  character  indifferent  to  trials  not  affecting  that  one 
object.  There  is  an  analogous  influence  produced  in 
the  Christian  by  a  vigorous  pursuit  of  duty,  a  determi- 
nation to  work  while  it  is  day. 

One  of  the  penalties  women  must  pay  for  modern  Letter 

to  Miss 

deference  to  their  intellect  is,  I  suppose,  that  they  Lewis,28th 
must  give  reasons  for  their  conduct,  after  the  fashion 
of  men.  The  days  are  past  for  pleading  a  woman's 
reason.  The  truth  is,  that  the  hinderances  to  my  writ- 
ing have  been  like  the  little  waves  of  the  brooks  that 
look  so  lovely  just  now — they  have  arisen  one  after 
another  close  to  my  side,  but  when  I  have  looked 
back  I  have  found  the  ripples  too  insignificant  to  be 
marked  in  the  distance.  My  father's  longer  sejours  at 
home  than  formerly,  and  multiplied  acquaintances 
and  engagements,  are  really  valid  excuses  for  me 
hitherto,  but  I  do  not  intend  to  need  them  in  future ; 
I  hope  to  be  a  "  snapper-up  of  unconsidered  "  mo- 
ments. I  have  just  been  interrupted  by  a  visit  from 
a  lass  of  fourteen,  who  has  despoiled  me  of  half  an 


64  Depression.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  hour,  and  I  am  going  out  to  dinner,  so  that  I  cannot 
Lewis,28th  follow  the  famous  advice,  "  Hasten  slowly."  I  suppose 

Aprilti&ti.     ,  .    . 

that  you  framed  your  note  on  the  principle  that  a 
sharp  and  sudden  sound  is  the  most  rousing,  but  there 
are  addenda  about  yourself  that  I  want  to  know,  though 
I  dare  not  ask  for  them.  I  do  not  feel  settled  enough 
to  write  more  at  present.  How  is  it  that  Erasmus 
could  write  volumes  on  volumes  and  multifarious  let- 
ters besides,  while  I,  whose  labors  hold  about  the  same 
relation  to  his  as  an  ant-hill  to  a  pyramid  or  a  drop  of 
dew  to  the  ocean,  seem  too  busy  to  write  a  few?  A 
most  posing  query  ! 
Le"e.r  I  have  of  late  felt  a  depression  that  has  disordered 

to  Miss 

Lewis,       the  vision  of  my  mind's  eye  and  made  me  alive  to  what 

Thursday  * 

morning,    js  certainly  a  fact  (though  my  imagination  when  I  am 

June,  1841.  * 

in  health  is  an  adept  at  concealing  it),  that  I  am  alone 
in  the  world.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  so  sinful  as  to  say 
that  I  have  not  friends  most  undeservedly  kind  and 
tender,  and  disposed  to  form  a  far  too  favorable  esti- 
mate of  me,  but  I  mean  that  I  have  no  one  who  enters 
into  my  pleasures  or  my  griefs,  no  one  with  whom  I 
can  pour  out  my  soul,  no  one  with  the  same  yearnings, 
the  same  temptations,  the  same  delights  as  myself.  I 
merely  mention  this  as  the  impression  that  obtrudes 
itself  when  my  body  tramples  on  its  keeper — (a  meta- 
phor borrowed  from  a  menagerie  of  wild  beasts,  if  it 
should  happen  to  puzzle  you  !) — mysterious  "  connec- 
tion exquisite  of  distant  worlds  "  that  we  present !  A 
few  drops  of  steel  will  perhaps  make  me  laugh  at  the 
simple  objects  that,  in  gloom  and  mist,  I  conjure  into 
stalking  apparitions. 

to  Miss  I  am  beginning  to  be  interlaced  with  multiplying  ties 
Margate,  of  duty  and  affection,  that,  while  they  render  my  new 
•-841.  '  home  happier,  forbid  me  to  leave  it  on  a  pleasure-seek- 


1841.]  Nicholas  "Architecture  of  the  Heavens."    65 

ing  expedition.  I  think,  indeed,  that  both  my  heart 
and  limbs  would  leap  to  behold  the  great  and  wide 
sea — that  old  ocean  on  which  man  can  leave  no  trace. 

I  have  been  revelling  in  Nichol's  "Architecture  of  ]^j 
the   Heavens  and  Phenomena  of  the  Solar  System."  ^ew,is'03d 

*  '     Sept.  1841. 

and  have  been  in  imagination  winging  my  flight  from 
system  to  system,  from  universe  to  universe,  trying  to 
conceive  myself  in  such  a  position  and  with  such  a 
visual  faculty  as  would  enable  me  to  enjoy  what  Young 
enumerates  among  the  novelties  of  the  "Stranger" 
man  when  he  bursts  the  shell  to 

"  Behold  an  infinite  of  floating  worlds 
Divide  the  crystal  waves  of  ether  pure 
In  endless  voyage  without  port." 

"  Hospitable  infinity  !"  Nichol  beautifully  says.  How 
should  I  love  to  have  a  thorough-going  student  with 
me,  that  we  might  read  together !  We  might  each 
alternately  employ  the  voice  and  the  fingers,  and  thus 
achieve  just  twice  as  much  as  a  poor  solitary.  I  am 
more  impressed  than  ever  with  a  truth  beautifully  ex- 
pressed in  "  Woman's  Mission  " — "  Learning  is  only 
so  far  valuable  as  it  serves  to  enlarge  and  enlighten 
the  bounds  of  conscience."  This  I  believe  it  emi- 
nently does  when  pursued  humbly  and  piously,  and 
from  a  belief  that  it  is  a  solemn  duty  to  cultivate  every 
faculty  of  our  nature  so  far  as  primary  obligations 
allow.  There  is  an  exhortation  of  St.  Paul's  that  I 
should  love  to  take  as  my  motto  :  "  Finally,  my  breth- 
ren, whatsoever  things  are  honest"  (you  know  the  con- 
tinuation)— "  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any 
praise,  think  on  these  things."  I  have  had  to  lament 
lately  that  mine  is  not  a  hard-working  mind — it  re- 
quires frequent  rest.  I  am  violently  in  love  with  the 
Italian  fashion  of  repeating  an  adjective  or  adverb, 


66  Desire  for  Brain  Waves.     [FOLESHILL, 

Letter       and  even  noun,  to  give  force  to  expression  :  there  is 

to  Miss  .       . 

Lewis,  3d   so   much  more  fire  in  it  than  in  our  circumlocutory 

Sept.  1841. 

phrases,  our  dull  "  verys"  and  "exceedinglys"  and  "ex- 
tremelys."  I  strongly  recommend  Hallam  to  you.  I 
shall  read  it  again  if  I  live.  When  a  sort  of  haziness 
comes  over  the  mind,  making  one  feel  weary  of  articu- 
lated or  written  signs  of  ideas,  does  not  the  notion  of 
a  less  laborious  mode  of  communication,  of  a  percep- 
tion approaching  more  nearly  to  intuition,  seem  attrac- 
tive ?  Nathless,  I  love  words :  they  are  the  quoits, 
the  bows,  the  staves  that  furnish  the  gymnasium  of  the 
mind.  Without  them,  in  our  present  condition,  our 
intellectual  strength  would  have  no  implements.  I 
have  been  rather  humbled  in  thinking  that  if  I  were 
thrown  on  an  uncivilized  island,  and  had  to  form  a 
literature  for  its  inhabitants  from  my  own  mental 
stock,  how  very  fragmentary  would  be  the  information 
with  which  I  could  furnish  them  !  It  would  be  a  good 
mode  of  testing  one's  knowledge  to  set  one's  self  the 
task  of  writing  sketches  of  all  subjects  that  have  en- 
tered into  one's  studies  entirely  from  the  chronicles 
of  memory.  -The  prevalence  of  misery  and  want  in 
this  boasted  nation  of  prosperity  and  glory  is  appal- 
ling, and  really  seems  to  call  us  away  from  mental  lux- 
ury. O  to  be  doing  some  little  towards  the  regener- 
ation of  this  groaning,  travailing  creation !  I  am 
supine  and  stupid — overfed  with  favors — while  the 
haggard  looks  and  piercing  glance  of  want  and  con- 
scious hopelessness  are  to  be  seen  in  the  streets. 
Letter  Is  not  this  a  true  autumn  day?  Just  the  still  melan- 

Lewis,  ist  choly  that  I  love — that  makes  life  and  nature  harmo- 
nize. The  birds  are  consulting  about  their  migrations, 
the  trees  are  putting  on  the  hectic  or  the  pallid  hues 
of  decay,  and  begin  to  strew  the  ground,  that  one's 


1841.]  Love  of  Autumn.  67 

very  footsteps  may  not  disturb  the  repose  of  earth  and  Letter 
air,  while  they  give  us  a  scent  that  is  a  perfect  ano-  Lewis,  ist 

3   s  Oct.  1841. 

dyne  to  the  restless  spirit.  Delicious  autumn  !  My 
very  soul  is  wedded  to  it,  and  if  I  were  a  bird  I  would 
fly  about  the  earth  seeking  the  successive  autumns. 

I  am  going.  I  hope,  to-day  to  effect  a  breach  in  the  Le't,e.r 

J  to  Miss 

thick  wall  of  indifference  behind  which  the  denizens  L,ewis> 2d 

.Nov.  1841 

of  Coventry  seem  inclined  to  intrench  themselves;  but 

I  fear  I  shall  fail. 

This  probably  refers  to  the  first  visit  paid  by 
Miss  Evans  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  at  their  house. 
They  had  met  in  the  previous  May  at  Mrs.  Pears' ; 
but  although  they  were  at  once  mutually  attracted, 
the  acquaintance  does  not  seem  to  have  been  im- 
mediately prosecuted  further.  Now,  however,  any 
time  lost  in  the  beginning  was  quickly  made  up, 
and  it  is  astonishing  how  rapidly  the  most  intimate 
relations  were  formed.  Mr.  Bray  was  a  ribbon- 
manufacturer,  well-to-do  at  that  time,  and  had  a 
charming  house,  Rosehill,  with  a  beautiful  lawn 
and  garden,  in  the  outskirts  of  Coventry.  Only  a 
part  of  his  time  was  occupied  with  his  business, 
and  he  had  much  leisure  and  opportunity,  of  which 
he  availed  himseif,  for  liberal  self-education  and 
culture.  His  was  a  robust,  self-reliant  mind.  Al- 
ready, in  1839,  he  had  published  a  work  on  the 
"  Education  of  the  Feelings,"  viewed  from  the 
phrenological  standpoint;  and  in  this  year,  1841, 
appeared  his  most  important  book,  "  The  Philos- 
ophy of  Necessity."  He  always  remained  a  sin- 
cere and  complete  believer  in  the  science  of  phre- 
nology. He  had  married  Miss  Caroline  Hennell, 
sister  of  the  Mr.  Charles  Hennell  who  published, 
in  1838,  "An  Inquiry  Concerning  the  Origin  of 


68  Brays  Influence  on  Opinions.    [FOLESHILL, 

Christianity" — a  remarkable  book,  which  was  trans- 
lated into  German,  Strauss  contributing  a  preface 
to  the  translation.  It  will  be  seen  from  subsequent 
letters  how  greatly  Miss  Evans  was  interested  in 
this  book — how  much  she  admired  it ;  and  the 
reading  of  it,  combined  with  the  association  with  her 
new  friends — with  the  philosophical  speculations 
of  Mr.  Bray,  and  with  Mrs.  Bray's  sympathy  in  her 
brother's  critical  and  sceptical  standpoint  —  no 
doubt  hastened  the  change  in  her  attitude  towards 
the  dogmas  of  the  old  religion.  In  the  Analytical 
Catalogue  of  Mr.  Chapman's  publications,  issued 
in  1852,  there  is  an  analysis  of  Hennell's  "  In- 
quiry," done  by  Miss  Evans,  which  may  be  inserted 
here,  as  giving  her  idea  of  the  book  eleven  years 
later. 

"The  first  edition  of  this  work  appeared  in  1838, 
when  the  present  strong  current  of  public  opinion  in 
favor  of  free  religious  discussion  had  not  yet  set  in ; 
and  it  probably  helped  to  generate  the  tone  of  thought 
exhibited  in  more  recent  works  of  the  same  class,  to 
which  circumstances  have  given  a  wider  fame — works 
which,  like  the  above,  in  considering  questions  of  Bibli- 
cal criticism  and  the  philosophy* of  Christianity,  com- 
bine high  refinement,  purity  of  aim,  and  candor,  with 
the  utmost  freedom  of  investigation,  and  with  a  popu- 
larity of  style  which  wins  them  the  attention  not  only 
of  the  learned  but  of  the  practical. 

"  The  author  opens  his  inquiry  with  an  historical ' 
sketch,  extending  from  the  Babylonish  Captivity  to  the 
end  of  the  first  century,  the  design  of  which  is  to  show 
how,  abstracting  the  idea  of  the  miraculous,  or  any 
speciality  of  divine  influence,  the  gradual  development 
of  certain  elements  in  Jewish  character,  and  the  train 


1841.]  Charles  HenneWs  "Inquiry"  69 

of  events  in  Jewish  history,  contributed  to  form  a  suit- 
able nidus  for  the  production  of  a  character  and  career 
like  that  of  Jesus,  and  how  the  devoted  enthusiasm 
generated  by  such  a  career  in  his  immediate  disciples, 
rendering  it  easier  for  them  to  modify  their  ideas  of 
the  Messiah  than  to  renounce  their  belief  in  their  Mas- 
ter's Messiahship — the  accession  of  Gentile  converts 
and  the  destruction  of  the  last  remnant  of  theocracy, 
necessitating  a  wider  interpretation  of  Messianic  hopes 
— the  junction  of  Christian  ideas  with  Alexandrian  Pla- 
tonism,  and  the  decrepitude  of  polytheism,  combined 
to  associate  the  name  of  Jesus,  his  Messiahship,  his 
death  and  his  resurrection,  with  a  great  moral  and  re- 
ligious revolution.  This  historical  sketch,  which  is  un- 
der the  disadvantage  of  presenting,  synthetically,  ideas 
based  on  a  subsequent  analysis,  is  intended  to  meet 
the  difficulty  so  often  urged,  and  which  might  be  held 
to  nullify  the  value  of  a  critical  investigation,  that 
Christianity  is  a  fact  for  which,  if  the  supposition  of  a 
miraculous  origin  be  rejected,  no  adequate  and  proba- 
ble causes  can  be  assigned,  and  that  thus,  however  de- 
fective may  be  the  evidence  of  the  New -Testament 
history,  its  acceptance  is  the  least  difficult  alternative. 
"  In  the  writer's  view,  the  characteristics  of  the  Es- 
sene  sect,  as  traced  by  Josephus  and  Philo,  justify  the 
supposition  that  Jesus  was  educated  in  their  school  of 
philosophy ;  but  with  the  elevated  belief  and  purity  of 
life  which  belonged  to  this  sect  he  united  the  ardent 
patriotic  ideas  which  had  previously  animated  Judas 
of  Galilee,  who  resisted  the  Roman  authority  on  the 
ground  that  God  was  the  only  ruler  and  lord  of  the 
Jews.  The  profound  consciousness  of  genius,  a  re- 
ligious fervor  which  made  the  idea  of  the  divine  ever 
present  to  him,  patriotic  zeal,  and  a  spirit  of  moral  re- 


/o  Charles  Hewlett's  "Inquiry"    [FOLESHILL, 

form,  together  with  a  participation  in  the  enthusiastic 
belief  of  his  countrymen  that  the  long-predicted  exal- 
tation of  Israel  was  at  hand,  combined  to  produce  in 
the  mind  of  Jesus  the  gradual  conviction  that  he  was 
himself  the  Messiah,  with  whose  reign  that  exaltation 
would  commence.  He  began,  as  John  the  Baptist  had 
already  done,  to  announce  '  the  kingdom  of  heaven/  a 
phrase  which,  to  the  Jewish  mind,  represented  the  na- 
tional glorification  of  Israel ;  and  by  his  preaching, 
and  the  influence  of  his  powerful  personality,  he  won 
multitudes  in  Galilee  to  a  participation  in  his  belief 
that  he  was  the  expected  Son  of  David.  His  public 
entrance  into  Jerusalem  in  the  guise  which  tradition 
associated  with  the  Messiah,  when  he  sanctioned  the 
homage  of  the'  multitude,  was  probably  the  climax  of 
his  confidence  that  a  great  demonstration  of  divine 
power,  in  concurrence  with  popular  enthusiasm,  would 
seat  him  triumphantly  on  the  throne  of  David.  No 
such  result  appearing,  his  views  of  the  divine  dispen- 
sation with  respect  to  himself  began  to  change,  and  he 
felt  the  presentiment  that  he  must  enter  on  his  Mes- 
sianic reign  through  the  gates  of  suffering  and  death. 
Viewing  Jesus  as  a  pretender  not  only  to  spiritual  but 
to  political  power,  as  one  who  really  expected  the  sub- 
version of  the  existing  government  to  make  way  for 
his  own  kingship  (though  he  probably  relied  on  divine 
rather  than  on  human  means),  he  must  necessarily 
have  appeared  in  a  dangerous  light  to  those  of  his 
countrymen  who  were  in  authority,  and  who  were  anx- 
ious at  any  price  to  preserve  public  tranquillity  in  the 
presence  of  the  Roman  power,  ready  to  visit  with 
heavy  vengeance  any  breach  of  order,  and  to  deprive 
them  of  the  last  remnants  of  their  independence;  and 
hence  the  motives  for  his  arrest  and  execution.  To 


1841.]  Charles  Hennell's  "Inquiry."  71 

account  for  the  belief  of  the  disciples  in  the  resurrec- 
tion of  their  Master — a  belief  which  appears  to  have 
been  sincere — the  author  thinks  it  necessary  to  sup- 
pose a  certain  nucleus  of  fact,  and  this  he  finds  in  the 
disappearance  of  the  body  of  Jesus,  a  point  attested 
by  all  the  four  evangelists.  The  secret  of  this  disap- 
pearance probably  lay  with  Joseph  of  Arimathsea  and 
Nicodemus,  who  were  anxious  to  avoid  implicating 
themselves  with  that  fermentation  of  regretful  enthu- 
siasm to  which  a  resort  of  the  disciples  to  the  grave 
might  give  rise.  Animated  by  a  belief  in  the  resurrec- 
tion, which,  being  more  harmless  in  the  eyes  of  the 
authorities  than  that  in  a  living  Messiah,  they  were 
permitted  to  preach  with  little  molestation  ;  the  zeal  of 
the  disciples  won  many  converts ;  a  new  impulse  was 
given  to  their  cause  by  the  accession  of  Paul,  who  be- 
came the  chief  missionary  of  the  new  faith,  as  construed 
by  himself,  to  the  Gentiles ;  and  the  concurrence  of  the 
causes  indicated  above,  modifying  the  early  creed  of 
the  apostles,  and  blending  it  with  trains  of  thought  al- 
ready prevalent,  bore  along  Christianity  in  its  conquest 
over  the  minds  of  men  until  it  became  the  dominant 
religion  of  the  Roman  world. 

"  Having  sought  to  show,  in  this  preliminary  sketch, 
that  a  belief  in  miracles  is  not  entailed  on  us  by  the 
fact  of  the  early  growth  of  Christianity,  the  author  en- 
ters on  the  inquiry  whether  the  claims  of  the  evangeli- 
cal writers  on  our  credence  are  such  as  to  sustain  the 
miraculous  part  of  their  narratives.  The  answer  is  in 
the  negative.  He  discusses,  first,  the  date  and  credi- 
bility of  each  Gospel,  and  concludes  that  while  Mat- 
thew has  many  marvellous  stories,  incongruous  in  them- 
selves, and  not  only  unsupported  but  contradicted  by 
the  other  evangelists,  he  nevertheless  presents  the  most 


72  Charles  Hcnncirs  "Inquiry"    [FOLESHILL, 

comprehensible  account  of  the  career  of  Jesus ;  that 
in  Mark,  evidently  more  remote  in  time  and  circum- 
stances, both  from  his  events  and  from  Jewish  modes 
of  thought,  the  idea  conveyed  of  Jesus  is  much  vaguer 
and  less  explicable;  that  in  Luke  there  is  a  still  fur- 
ther modification  of  his  character,  which  has  acquired 
a  tinge  of  asceticism ;  while  in  John  the  style  of  his 
teaching  is  wholly  changed,  and  instead  of  the  graphic 
parable  and  the  pithy  apothegm,  he  utters  long,  mysti- 
cal discourses  in  the  style  of  the  first  epistle  bearing 
the  name  of  the  same  evangelist.  Mr.  Hennell,  how- 
ever, adheres  to  the  conclusion  that  the  substance  of 
this  Gospel  came  from  the  apostle  John  at  an  advanced 
age,  when  both  the  events  of  his  early  manhood  and 
the  scenes  of  his  native  land  lay  in  the  far  distance. 
The  writer  then  enters  on  a  special  examination  of  the 
Resurrection  and  Ascension,  and  the  other  miracles  in 
the  Gospels  and  the  Acts,  and  inquires  how  far  they 
are  sustained  by  the  apostolic  Epistles.  He  examines 
the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament  supposed  to  have 
been  fulfilled  in  Jesus,  and  also  the  predictions  of 
Jesus  himself  concerning  his  death  and  resurrection ; 
and,  finally,  he  considers  the  character,  views,  and  doc- 
trine of  Christ.  According  to  him,  an  impartial  study 
of  the  conduct  and  sayings  of  Jesus,  as  exhibited  in 
the  Gospels,  produces  the  conviction  that  he  was  an 
enthusiast  and  a  revolutionist,  no  less  than  a  reformer 
and  a  moral  and  religious  teacher.  Passages  are  ad- 
duced from  the  Old  Testament,  and  from  the  apocry- 
phal and  rabbinical  writings,  to  show  that  there  is 
scarcely  anything  absolutely  original  in  the  teaching 
of  Jesus ;  but,  in  the  opinion  of  the  author,  he  mani- 
fests a  freedom  and  individuality  in  the  use  of  his  ma- 
terials, and  a  general  superiority  of  tone  and  selection; 


1841.]          Charles  HenneWs  "Inquiry"  73 

which,  united  with  the  devotion  of  his  life  to  what  he 
held  the  highest  purpose,  mark  him  to  be  of  an  order 
of  minds  occurring  but  at  rare  intervals  in  the  history 
of  our  race. 

"  Shortly  after  the  appearance  of  this  work  it  was 
translated  into  German  through  the  instrumentality  of 
Dr.  Strauss,  who,  in  the  preface  he  prefixed  to  it,  says : 
'  Not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  German  to  read  con- 
tinuously a  learned  work  in  that  language,  the  labors 
of  our  theologians  were  only  accessible  to  him '  (the 
author  of  the  'Inquiry')  'so  far  as  they  were  written 
in  Latin,  or  translated  into  English,  or  treated  of  in 
English  writings  or  periodicals :  especially  he  is  unac- 
quainted with  what  the  Germans  have  effected  in  the 
criticism  of  the  gospels  since  Schleiermacher's  work 
on  Luke,  and  even  the  earlier  commentators  he  knows 
but  imperfectly.  Only  so  much  the  more  remarkable 
is  it,  however,  that  both  in  the  principles  and  in  the 
main  results  of  his  investigation,  he  is  on  the  very 
track  which  has  been  entered  on  among  us  in  recent 
years.  .  .  .  That  at  certain  periods,  certain  modes  of 
thought  lie  as  it  were  in  the  atmosphere, .  .  .  and  come 
to  light  in  the  most  remote  places  without  perceptible 
media  of  communication,  is  shown,  not  only  by  the 
contents,  but  by  the  spirit,  of  Mr.  Hennell's  work.  No 
further  traces  of  the  ridicule  and  scorn  which  charac- 
terize his  countrymen  of  the  deistical  school ;  the  sub- 
ject is  treated  in  the  earnest  and  dignified  tone  of  the 
truth-seeker,  not  with  the  rancor  of  a  passionate  po- 
lemic ;  we  nowhere  find  him  deriving  religion  from 
priestcraft,  but  from  the  tendencies  and  wants  of  hu- 
man nature. . . .  These  elevated  views,  which  the  learned 
German  of  our  day  appropriates  as  the  fruit  of  the  re- 
ligious and  scientific  advancement  of  his  nation,  this 
4 


74  Charles  Henncirs  "Inquiry"    [FOLESHILL, 

Englishman,  to  whom  most  of  the  means  at  our  com- 
mand were  wanting,  has  been  able  to  educe  entirely 
from  himself.  .  .  .  An  Englishman,  a  merchant,  a  man 
of  the  world,  he  possesses,  both  by  nature  and  by  train- 
ing, the  practical  insight,  the  sure  tact,  which  lays  hold 
on  realities.  The  solution  of  problems  over  which  the 
German  flutters  with  many  circuits  of  learned  formulae, 
our  English  author  often  succeeds  in  seizing  at  one 
spring.  ...  To  the  learned  he  often  presents  things 
under  a  surprisingly  new  aspect;  to  the  unlearned,  in- 
variably under  that  which  is  the  most  comprehensible 
and  attractive.' " 

The  reading  of  Mr.  Hennell's  book  no  doubt 
marks  an  epoch  in  George  Eliot's  development  ; 
but  probably  there  had  been  a  good  deal  of  half- 
unconscious  preparation  beforehand  (as  indicated 
by  Mrs.  Cash's  remarks  on  Isaac  Taylor's  work,  in 
the  last  chapter),  which  was  greatly  stimulated  now 
by  the  contact  with  new  minds.  The  following  ex- 
tract from  a  letter  to  Miss  Lewis,  dated  i3th 
November,  1841,  accurately  fixes  the  date  of  the 
first  acknowledgment  by  herself  that  her  opinions 
were  undergoing  so  momentous  a  change. 

Letter       Mr  whole  soul  has  been  engrossed  in  the  most  inter- 
to  Miss 
Lewis,       esting  of  all  inquiries  for  the  last  few  days,  and  to  what 

1 3th  Nov. 

184'-  result  my  thoughts  may  lead,  I  know  not — possibly  to 
one  that  will  startle  you  ;  but  my  only  desire  is  to  know 
the  truth,  my  only  fear  to  cling  to  error.  I  venture  to 
say  our  love  will  not  decompose  under  the  influence 
of  separation,  unless  you  excommunicate  me  for  differ- 
ing from  you  in  opinion.  Think — is  there  any  conceiva- 
ble alteration  in  me  that  would  prevent  your  coming  to 
me  at  Christmas?  I  long  to  have  a  friend  such  as 
you  are,  I  think  I  may  say,  alone  to  me,  to  unburden 


1842.]       Religious  Doubts  and  Difficulties.  75 

every  thought  and  difficulty — for  I  am  still  a  solitary,  Letter 
though  near  a  city.     But  we  have  the  universe  to  talk  Lewis, 

'  I3th  Nov. 

with,  infinity  in  which  to  stretch  the  gaze  of  hope,  and  '841. 
an  all-bountiful,  all-wise  Creator  in  whom  to  confide — 
he  who  has  given  us  the  untold  delights  of  which  our 
reason,  our  emotion,  our  sensations,  are  the  ever-spring- 
ing sources. 

What  a  pity  that  while  mathematics  are  indubitable,  Letter 

r     J  to  Miss 

immutable,  and  no  one  doubts  the  properties  of  a  tri- Lewis,  sth 

Dec.  1841. 

angle  or  a  circle,  doctrines  infinitely  important  to  man 
are  buried  in  a  charnel-heap  of  bones  over  which  noth- 
ing is  heard  but  the  barks  and  growls  of  contention ! 
"  Unto  their  assembly,  mine  honor,  be  not  thou  united." 
It   was   impossible   for   such  a  nature  as  Miss 
Evans's,  in  the  enthusiasm  of  this  first  great  change, 
to  rest  satisfied  in  compliance  with  the  old  forms, 
and  she  was  so  uneasy  in  an  equivocal  position 
that  she  determined  to  give  up  going  to  church. 
This  was  an  unforgivable  offence  in  the  eyes  of  her 
father,  who  was  a  Churchman  of  the  old  school,  and 
nearly  led  to  a  family  rupture.     He  went  so  far  as 
to  put  into  an  agent's  hands  the  lease  of  the  house 
in  the  Foleshill  road,  with  the  intention  of  going  to 
live  with  his  married  daughter.     Upon  this,  Miss 
Evans  made  up  her  mind  to  go  into  lodgings  at 
Leamington,  and  to  try  to  support  herself  by  teach- 
ing.    The  first  letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  refers  to  this 
incident : 

My  guardian  angel,  Mrs.  Pears,  has  just  sent  for  me  to  Letter  to 
hear  your  kind  note,  which  has  done  my  aching  limbs  jaa'is^f' 
a  little  good.     I  shall  be  most  thankful  for  the  oppor- 
tunity of  going  to  Leamington,  and  Mrs.  Pears  is  will- 
ing to  go  too.     There  is  but  one  woe,  that  of  leaving 
my  dear  father— all  else,  doleful  lodgings,  scanty  meals, 


76  Religious  Difficulties.         [FOI.ESHILL, 

Letter  to    and  gazittg-stockism,  are  quite  indifferent  to  me.    There- 
jan.'i&4i.'  fore  do  not  fear  for  me  when  I  am  once  settled  in  my 

home — wherever  it  may  be — and  freed  from  wretched 

suspense. 

Letter  Far  from  being  weary  of  your  dear  little   Henry, 

PMN,       his  matin  visits  are  as  cheering  to  me  as  those  of  any 

Friday          , .     .      .  •    j 
evening.       little  bird 

"  that  comes  in  spite  of  sorrow, 
And  at  my  window  bids  good-morrow." 

We  have  not,  perhaps,  been  so  systematic  as  a  regular 
tutor  and  pupil  would  have  been,  but  we  crave  indul- 
gence for  some  laxity.  I  was  really  touched  that  you 
should  think  of  me  while  among  friends  more  closely 
linked  with  you  in  every  way.  I  was  beginning  to  get 
used  to  the  conviction  that,  ivy-like  as  I  am  by  nature, 
I  must  (as  we  see  ivy  do  sometimes)  shoot  out  into  an 
isolated  tree.  Never  again  imagine  that  you  need  ask 
forgiveness  for  speaking  or  writing  to  me  on  subjects 
to  me  more  interesting  than  aught  else;  on  the  con- 
trary, believe  that  I  really  enjoy  conversation  of  this 
nature:  blank  silence  and  cold  reserve  are  the  only 
bitters  I  care  for  in  my  intercourse  with  you.  I  can 
rejoice  in  all  the  joys  of  humanity  ;  in  all  that  serves 
to  elevate  and  purify  feeling  and  action  ;  nor  will  I 
quarrel  with  the  million  who,  I  am  persuaded,  are  with 
me  in  intention,  though  our  dialects  differ.  Of  course, 
I  must  desire  the  ultimate  downfall  of  error,  for  no 
error  is  innocuous ;  but  this  assuredly  will  occur  with- 
out my  proselytizing  aid,  and  the  best  proof  of  a  real 
love  of  the  truth — that  freshest  stamp  of  divinity — is  a 
calm  confidence  in  its  intrinsic  power  to  secure  its 
own  high  destiny,  that  of  universal  empire.  Do  not 
fear  that  I  will  become  a  stagnant  pool  by  a  self-suffi- 
cient determination  only  to  listen  to  my  own  echo ;  to 


1842.]  Desire  for  Truth.  77 

read  the  yea,  yea,  on  my  own  side,  and  be  most  com-  Letter 
fortably  deaf  to  the  nay,  nay.  Would  that  all  rejected  Pears, 
practically  this  maxim  !  To  fear  the  examination  of  evening, 

„  Feb.  1842. 

any  proposition  appears  to  me  an  intellectual  and  a 
moral  palsy  that  will  ever  hinder  the  firm  grasping  of 
any  substance  whatever.  For  my  part,  I  wish  to  be 
among  the  ranks  of  that  glorious  crusade  that  is  seek- 
ing to  set  Truth's  Holy  Sepulchre  free  from  a  usurped 
domination.  We  shall  then  see  her  resurrection ! 
Meanwhile,  although  I  cannot  rank  among  my  prin- 
ciples of  action  a  fear  of  vengeance  eternal,  gratitude 
for  predestined  salvation,  or  a  revelation  of  future 
glories  as  a  reward,  I  fully  participate  in  the  belief  that 
the  only  heaven  here,  or  hereafter,  is  to  be  found  in 
conformity  with  the  will  of  the  Supreme ;  a  continual 
aiming  at  the  attainment  of  the  perfect  ideal,  the  true 
logos  that  dwells  in  the  bosom  of  the  one  Father.  I 
hardly  know  whether  I  am  ranting  after  the  fashion  of 
one  of  the  Primitive  Methodist  prophetesses,  with  a 
cart  for  her  rostrum,  I  am  writing  so  fast.  Good-bye, 
and  blessings  on  you,  as  they  will  infallibly  be  on  the 
children  of  peace  and  virtue. 

Again  about  the  same  date  in  1842  she  writes  to 
Mrs.  Bray : 

A  heart  full  of  love  and  gratitude  to  you  for  all  your  Letter  to 
kindness  in  thought  and  act  to  me,  undeserving.     I  Feb.  184*' 
dare  say  my  manner  belies  my  feelings :  but  friendship 
must  live  by  faith  and  not  by  sight,  and  I  shall  be  a 
great  gainer  by  leaving  you  to  interpret  my  mystic  char- 
acter without  any  other  key  than  your  own  goodness. 

The  last  letter  of  the  series  to  Miss  Lewis  also 
refers  to  the  difficulties  of  the  situation  :  Letter 

I  dare  say  you  have  added,  subtracted,  and  divided  Le^'s.8 
suppositions  until  you  think  you  have  a  sure  product  Js42.*eb< 


78  Phrenological  Indications.     [FOLESHILL, 

— viz.,  a  good  quantum,  or,  rather,  a  bad  one,  of  indif- 
ference and  forgetfulness,  as  the  representation  of  my 
conduct  towards  you.  If  so,  revise  your  arithmetic,  for 
be  it  known  to  you  that,  having  had  my  propensities, 
sentiments,  and  intellect  gauged  a  second  time,  I  am 
pronounced  to  possess  a  large  organ  of "  adhesive- 
ness," a  still  larger  one  of  "  firmness,"  and  as  large  of 
"conscientiousness"  —  hence,  if  I  should  turn  out  a 
very  weathercock  and  a  most  pitiful  truckler,  you  will 
have  data  for  the  exercise  of  faith  maugre  common- 
sense,  common  justice,  and  the  testimony  of  your  eyes 
and  ears. 

How  do  you  go  on  for  society,  for  communion  of 
spirit,  the  drop  of  nectar  in  the  cup  of  mortals  ?  But 
why  do  I  say  the  drop  ?  The  mind  that  feels  its  value 
will  get  large  draughts  from  some  source,  if  denied  it 
in  the  most  commonly  chosen  way. 

"'Mid  the  rich  store  of  nature's  gifts  to  man 
Each  has  his  loves,  close  wedded  to  his  soul 
By  fine  association's  golden  links. 
As  the  Great  Spirit  bids  creation  teem 
With  conscious  being  and  intelligence, 
So  man,  his  miniature  resemblance,  gives 
To  matter's  every  form  a  speaking  soul, 
An  emanation  from  his  spirit's  fount, 
The  impress  true  of  its  peculiar  seal. 
Here  finds  he  thy  best  image,  sympathy." 

Beautiful  egoism,  to  quote  one's  own.  But  where  is 
not  this  same  ego  ?  The  martyr  at  the  stake  seeks  its 
gratification  as  much-  as  the  court  sycophant,  the  dif- 
ference lying  in  the  comparative  dignity  and  beauty  of 
the  two  egos.  People  absurdly  talk  of  self-denial. 
Why,  there  is  none  in  virtue,  to  a  being  of  moral  ex- 
cellence :  the  greatest  torture  to  such  a  soul  would  be 
to  run  counter  to  the  dictates  of  conscience;  to  \vaJ- 


1842.]  Effects  of  Non-conformity \  79 

low  in  the  slough  of  meanness,  deception,  revenge,  or  Letter 

to  Miss 

sensuality.     This  was  Paul's  idea  in  the  first  chapter  Lewis, 

.  .  .  i9«h  Feb 

of  2d  Epistle  to  Timothy  (I  think  that  is  the  passage).  1842. 

I  have  had  a  weary  week.  At  the  beginning  more 
than  the  usual  amount  of  cooled  glances,  and  exhorta- 
tions to  the  suppression  of  self-conceit.  The  former 
are  so  many  hailstones  that  make  me  wrap  more  close- 
ly around  me  the  mantle  of  determinate  purpose :  the 
latter  are  needful,  and  have  a  tendency  to  exercise  for- 
bearance, that  well  repays  the  temporary  smart.  The 
heart  knoweth  its  own,  whether  bitterness  or  joy  :  let 
us,  clearest,  beware  how  we,  even  with  good  intentions, 
press  a  finger's  weight  on  the  already  bruised. 

And  about   the  same  date  she  writes  to  Mrs. 
Bray  : 
I  must  relieve  my  conscience  before  I  go  to  bed  by  Letter  to 

3  Mrs.  Bray, 

entering  a  protest  against  every  word  or  accent  of  dis-|ndof 
content  that  I  uttered  this  morning.  If  I  have  ever 
complained  of  any  person  or  circumstance,  I  do  pen- 
ance by  eating  my  own  words.  When  my  real  self 
has'regained  its  place,  I  can  shake  off  my  troubles  "  like 
dewdrops  from  the  lion's  mane,"  and  then  I  feel  the 
baseness  of  imputing  my  sorrows  to  others  rather  than 
to  my  own  pitiful  weakness.  But  I  do  not  write  for 
your  forgiveness  ;  that  I  know  I  have.  I  only  want 
to  satisfy  my  indignation  against  myself. 

The  conclusion  of  the  matter  was  that  Mr.  Evans 

withdrew  his  house  from  the  agent's  hands,  and  his 

daughter  went  to  stay  at  Griff,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 

Isaac  Evans,  whence  she  writes  the  following  letter 

to  Mrs.  Pears  : 

I  have  just  been  climbing  up  some  favorite  old  hills,  Letter 
or  rather  hillocks,  and  if  I  could  see  you  I  should  find  Pears, 
myself  in  high  preparation  for  one  of  my  thorough  chats.  Mch.  1842. 


8o  Independence  of  External  God,        [GRIFF, 

Letter       Oh,  if  I  could  transport  myself  to  your  dining-room, 
Pears,       where  I  guess  you  and  Mr.  Pears  are  sitting  in  antici- 

Thursday, 

Mch.  1841.  pation  of  tea — carrying  on  no  "holy  war,  but  at  peace 
with  the  world  and  its  opinions,  or,  if  ever  you  do  bat- 
tle, in  the  happy  ranks  of  the  majority — I  could  kiss  you 
into  sublime  liberality !  How  are  you  and  your  clear 
husband  and  children?  It  seems  a  week  of  years  in- 
stead of  days  since  you  said  to  me  your  kind  good-bye, 
and  as  I  have  tried  your  magnanimity  quite  long  enough 
to  be  assured  that  you  will  not  let  me  hear  of  you  with- 
out a  beseeching  letter  from  me,  I  snatch  half  an  hour 
from  a  too  short  day  for  the  generous  purpose  of  doub- 
ly qualifying  myself,  first,  by  pouring  out  the  contents 
of  my  gossip-wallet,  and  then  quietly  awaiting  the  news 
I  want  to  hear  of  you.  I  have  here,  in  every  way,  abun- 
dant and  unlooked-for  blessings — delicacy  and  consid- 
eration from  all  whom  I  have  seen  ;  and  I  really  begin 
to  recant  my  old  belief  about  the  indifference  of  all 
the  world  towards  me,  for  my  acquaintances  of  this 
neighborhood  seem  to  seek  an  opportunity  of  smil- 
ing on  me  in  spite  of  my  heresy.  All  these  things, 
however,  are  but  the  fringe  and  ribbons  of  happiness. 
They  are  adherent,  not  /Vzherent;  and,  without  any 
affectation,  I  feel  myself  to  be  acquiring  what  I 
must  hold  to  be  a  precious  possession,  an  indepen- 
dence of  what  is  baptized  by  the  world  external  good. 
There  are  externals  (at  least,  they  are  such  in  com- 
mon thought)  that  I  could  ill  part  with — the  deep, 
blue,  glorious  heavens,  bending  as  they  do  over  all, 
presenting  the  same  arch,  emblem  of  a  truer  omnipres- 
ence, wherever  we  may  be  chased,  and  all  the  sweet, 
peace-breathing  sights  and  sounds  of  this  lovely  earth. 
These,  and  the  thoughts  of  the  good  and  great,  are  an 
inexhaustible  world  of  delight ;  and  the  felt  desire  to 


1842.]  Regrets  Her  Impetuosity*  81 

be  one  in  will  and  design  with  the  great  mind  that  has  Letter 

to  Mrs. 

laid  open  to  us  these  treasures  is  the  sun  that  warms  Pears, 

Thursday, 

and  fructifies  it.  I  am  more  and  more  impressed  Mch.  1842. 
with  the  duty  of  finding  happiness.  On  a  retrospec- 
tion of  the  past  month,  I  regret  nothing  so  much  as 
my  own  impetuosity  both  of  feeling  and  judging.  I 
am  not  inclined  to  be  sanguine  as  to  my  clear  father's 
future  determination,  and  I  sometimes  have  an  intense- 
ly vivid  consciousness,  which  I  only  allow  to  be  a 
fleeting  one,  of  all  that  is  painful  and  that  has  been  so. 
I  can  only  learn  that  my  father  has  commenced  his 
alterations  at  Packington,  but  he  only  appears  to  be 
temporarily  acquiescing  in  my  brother's  advice  "  not 
to  be  in  a  hurry."  I  do  not  intend  to  remain  here 
longer  than  three  weeks,  or,  at  the  very  farthest,  a 
month  ;  and,  if  I  am  not  then  recalled,  I  shall  write 
for  definite  directions.  I  must  have  a  home,  not  a  vis- 
iting-place. I  wish  you  would  learn  something  from 
my  father,  and  send  me  word  how  he  seems  disposed. 
I  hope  you  get  long  walks  on  these  beautiful  days. 
You  would  love  to  hear  the  choristers  we  have  here ; 
they  are  hymning  away  incessantly.  Can  you  not 
drive  over  and  see  me?  Do  come  by  hook  or  by 
crook.  Why,  Mr.  Pears  could  almost  walk  hither.  I 
am  becoming  very  hurried,  for  most  welcome  tea  is  in 
the  vicinity,  and  I  must  be  busy  after  I  have  imbibed 
its  inspiration.  You  will  write  to  me  to-morrow,  will  you 
not?  and  pray  insist  on  Mr.  Pears  writing  an  appendix. 
I  had  a  note  from  Mrs.  Bray  this  morning,  and  I  liked 
it  better  than  my  breakfast.  So  do  give  me  a  little 
treat  on  Saturday.  Blessings  on  you  and  yours,  as  all 
forlorn  beggars  have  said  from  time  immemorial  to 
their  benefactors ;  but  real  feeling,  you  know,  will 
sometimes  slip  into  a  hackneyed  guise. 
4* 


82  Return  to  FolcsJiill.        [ 

Miss  Evans  remained  for  about  three  weeks  at 
Griff,  at  the  end  of  which  time,  through  the  inter- 
vention of  her  brother,  the  Brays,  and  Miss  Rebec- 
ca Franklin,  the  father  was  very  glad  to  receive 
her  again,  and  she  resumed  going  to  church  as 
before. 

It  will  be  seen  from  a  subsequent  noteworthy  let- 
ter to  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  dated  igth  October,  1843, 
that  Miss  Evans's  views  of  the  best  course  to  be 
pursued  under  similar  circumstances  had  already 
undergone  considerable  modifications,  and  in  the 
last  year  of  her  life  she  told  me  that,  although  she 
did  not  think  she  had  been  to  blame,  few  things  had 
occasioned  her  more  regret  than  this  temporary  col- 
lision with  her  father,  which  might,  she  thought, 
have  been  avoided  with  a  little  management. 

In  July  of  this  year  (1842)  Miss  Sara  Hennell — 
the  gifted  sister  of  Mrs.  Bray — came  to  Rosehill, 
and  completed  the  trio  destined  to  exert  the  most 
important  influence  over  the  life  of  George  Eliot. 
The  individual  characters  of  these  three  friends, 
and  the  relations  each  bore  to  their  correspondent, 
will  unfold  themselves  in  the  letters.  It  is  only 
necessary  here  to  say  that  the  two  ladies — Cara 
and  Sara,  as  they  are  always  addressed — now  be- 
came like  sisters  to  Miss  Evans,  and  Mr.  Bray  her 
most  intimate  male  friend,  and  the  letters  to  them 
form  an  almost  unbroken  chain  during  all  the  re- 
mainder of  George  Eliot's  life. 

To  us  Miss  Sara  Hejinell  is  the  most  important 
correspondent,  for  it  is  to  her  that  Miss  Evans 
mainly  turns  now  for  intellectual  sympathy ;  to 
Mrs.  Bray  when  she  is  in  pain  or  trouble,  and 
wants  affectionate  companionship  ;  with  Mr.  Bray 


1842.]  Miss  Hennell  and  the  Brays.  83 

she  quarrels,  and  the  humorous  side  of  her  nature 
is  brought  out.  Every  good  story  goes  to  him, 
with  a  certainty  that  it  will  be  appreciated.  With 
all  three  it  is  a  beautiful  and  consistent  friendship, 
running  like  a  thread  through  the  woof  of  the  com- 
ing thirty-eight  years.  For  the  next  twelve  years,  as 
will  be  seen,  it  is  quite  the  most  important  thread  ; 
and  although  later  it  naturally  became  very  much 
less  important,  it  was  never  dropped  except  for  a 
moment,  in  1854,  owing  to  a  brief  misunderstand- 
ing of  letters,  which  will  appear  in  its  clue  place. 

The  following  letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell  show 
what  was  passing  from  3oth  August,  1842,  to  April, 
1843: 
How  I  have  delighted  in  the  thought  that  there  are  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

beings  who  are  better  than  their  promises,  beyond  the  Henneii, 

r          i  •  i      i  •  -i  3°lh  Au& 

regions  of  waking  and  sleeping  dreams.  1842. 

I  have  not  yet  accounted  for  my  tardiness  in  writ- Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

ing,  which,  I  assure  you,  is  no  representation  of  my  Hennell, 
usual  habit,  and  has  been  occasioned  only  by  a  week's  Sept.  1842. 
indisposition,  the  foster  -  parent  to  the  ill-favored  off- 
spring of  my  character  and  circumstances,  gloom  and 
stolidity,  and  I  could  not  write  to  you  with  such  com- 
panions to  my  thought.  I  am  anxious  that  you  should 
not  imagine  me  unhappy  even  in  my  most  melancholy 
moods,  for  I  hold  all  indulgence  of  sadness  that  has 
the  slightest  tincture  of  discontent  to  be  a  grave  de- 
linquency. I  think  there  can  be  few  who  more  truly 
feel  than  I  that  this  is  a  world  of  bliss  and  beauty — 
that  is,  that  bliss  and  beauty  are  the  end,  the  tendency 
of  creation  ;  and  evils  are  the  shadows  that  are  the 
only  conditions  of  light  in  the  picture,  and  I  live  in 
much,  much  enjoyment. 

I  am  beginning  to  enjoy  the  "  Eneid,"  though,  I 


84       Earth  not  the  Home  of  the  Spirit.  [FOLESHILL, 

suppose,  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  uninitiated  en- 
joy wine,  compared  with  the  connoisseurs. 
Misfsara  I  have  been  in  high  displeasure  with  myself,  have 
^N^V!'  thought  my  soul  only  fit  for  limbo,  to  keep  company 
with  other  abortions,  and  my  life  the  shallowest,  mud- 
diest, most  unblessing  stream.  Having  got  my  head 
above  this  slough  of  despond,  I  feel  quite  inclined  to 
tell  you  how  much  pleasure  your  letter  gave  me.  You 
observe  in  your  note  that  some  persons  say  the  un- 
satisfied longing  we  feel  in  ourselves  for  something 
better  than  the  greatest  perfection  to  be  found  on 
earth  is  a  proof  that  the  true  object  of  our  desires  lies 
beyond  it.  Assuredly,  this  earth  is  not  the  home  of 
the  spirit — it  will  rest  only  in  the  bosom  of  the  In- 
finite. But  the  non-satisfaction  of  the  affections  and 
intellect  being  inseparable  from  the  unspeakable  ad- 
vantage of  such  a  mind  as  that  of  man  in  connection 
with  his  corporal  condition  and  terrene  destiny,  forms 
not  at  present  an  argument  with  me  for  the  realization 
of  particular  desires. 

The  next  letter  refers  to  Miss  Mary  Hennell's ' 
last  illness : 
Letter  to    I  cannot  help  wishing  to  tell  you,  now  that  you  are  in 

Miss  Sara  111-  i  i 

Henneii,  trouble  and  anxiety,  how  dear  you  are  to  me,  and  how 
1843.  the  recollection  of  you  is  ever  freshening  in  my  mind. 
You  have  need  of  all  your  cheeriness  and  energy ; 
and  if  they  do  not  fail,  I  think  it  almost  enviable,  as 
far  as  one's  self  is  concerned  (not,  of  course,  when  the 
sufferer  is  remembered),  to  have  the  care  of  a  sick- 
room, with  its  twilight  and  tiptoe  stillness  and  helpful 


JMiss  Mary  Hennell  was  the  author  of  "An  Outline  of  the 
Various  Social  Systems  founded  on  the  Principle  of  Co-opera- 
tion," published  in  1841. 


1843-]          Miss  Mary  HenneWs  Death.  85 

activity.  I  have  always  had  a  peculiarly  peaceful 
feeling  in  such  a  scene. 

Again,  after  the  death  of  Miss  Mary   Hennell, 
there  is  a  letter  to  her  sister  Sara  : 
We  always  find  that  our  stock  of  appreciated  good  fetter  to 

*  Miss  Sara 

can  never  be  really  diminished.     When  the  chief  de-  Henneii, 

April,  1 843 

sire  of  the  eyes  is  taken,  we  can  afford  a  gaze  to 
hitherto  unnoticed  possessions ;  and  even  when  the 
topmost  boughs  are  lopped,  a  thousand  shoots  spring 
from  below  with  the  energy  of  new  life.  So  it  will  be 
with  you  ;  but  you  cannot  yet  look  beyond  the  present, 
nor  is  it  desirable  that  you  should.  It  would  not  be 
well  for  us  to  overleap  one  grade  of  joy  or  suffering : 
our  life  would  lose  its  completeness  and  beauty. 

Rosehill  not  only  afforded  a  pleasant  variety  in 
the  Coventry  life,  as  most  visitors  to  the  town,  of 
any  note,  found  their  way  there,  but  the  Brays 
were  also  frequently  in  the  habit  of  making  little 
holiday  excursions,  in  many  of  which  Miss  Evans 
now  joined.  Thus  we  find  them  in  May,  1843,  all 
going  to  Stratford  and  Malvern,  together  with  Mr. 
Charles  Hennell  and  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  for  a 
week;  and  again,  in  July  of  that  year  the  same 
party,  accompanied  by  Miss  Brabant,  daughter  of 
Dr.  Brabant  of  Devizes,  went  on  a  fortnight's  tour, 
visiting  Tenby,  among  other  places.  This  trip  is 
chiefly  memorable  from  the  fact  that  it  was  indi- 
rectly responsible  for  Miss  Evans  undertaking  the 
translation  of  Strauss's  "  Leben  Jesu."  For  Miss 
Brabant  (to  whom  the  translation  had  been  con- 
fided by  Mr.  Joseph  Parkes  of  Birmingham  and  a 
group  of  friends)  became  engaged  to  be  married 
to  Mr.  Charles  Hennell ;  and  shortly  after  her 
marriage  she  handed  the  work  over  to  Miss  Evans. 


86  Charles  Hcnneirs  Marriage.    [FOLESHILL, 

In  the  next  two  letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell 

there  are  allusions  to  the  approaching  marriage, 

which  took  place  in  London  on   ist  November, 

1843, tne  Brays  and  Miss  Evans  being  present. 

Letter  to    Many  thanks  for  procuring  me   the  hymns  and   an- 

MissSara  *  * 

Hennell,    thems.     I  was  right  glad  to  play  "Ancient  of  Ages" 

i6thSept  &        fc>  f     J 

1843-  again,  and  I  shall  like  still  better  to  sing  it  with  you 
when  we  meet.  That  that  is  to  be  so  soon,  and  undet 
circumstances  so  joyful,  are  among  the  mirabilia  of 
this  changing  world.  To  see  and  re-see  such  a  clus- 
ter of  not  indifferent  persons  as  the  programme  for 
the  wedding  gives,  will  be  almost  too  large  a  bonne- 
bouche. 

I  saw  Robert  Owen  yesterday,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray 
having  kindly  asked  me  to  dine  with  him,  and  I  think 
if  his  system  prosper  it  will  be  in  spite  of  its  founder, 
and  not  because  of  his  advocacy. 

The  next  letter  to  Mrs.  Bray  gives  a  pleasant 

glimpse  of  their  studies  together,  and  of  the  little 

musical  society  that  was  in  the  habit  of  meeting 

at  Rosehill  to  play  concerted  pieces. 

Letterto    j  oniy  wish  you  would  change  houses  with  the  mayor, 

Mrs.  Bray,  •*  •* 

no  date,     that  I  might  get  to  you  when  I  would.     I  send  you 

1843.  °  ' 

the  first  part  of  "  Wallenstein,"  with  the  proposition 
that  we  should  study  that  in  conjunction  with  the 
"Thirty  Years'  War,"  as  I  happen  to  have  a  loose 
copy.  We  had  better  omit  the  "Lager,"  and  begin 
"Die  Piccolomini."  You  shall  have  "Joan  of  Arc," 
my  grand  favorite,  as  a  bonne-bouche  when  you  have 
got  through  "Wallenstein,"  which  will  amply  repay 
you  for  any  trouble  in  translating  it,  and  is  not  more 
difficult  than  your  reading  ought  to  be  now.  I  have 
skimmed  Manzoni,  who  has  suffered  sadly  in  being 
poured  out  of  silver  into  pewter.  The  chapter  on 


1843-]  Reading  with  Mrs.  Bray.  87 

Philosophy  and  Theology  is  worth  reading.  Miss  Letter  to 
Brabant  sent  me  my  "  Hyperion  "  with  a  note,  the  other  no  date, 
day.  She  had  put  no  direction  besides  Coventry,  and 
the  parcel  had  consequently  been  sent  to  some  other 
Miss  Evans,  and  my  choice  little  sentimental  treas- 
ures, alas !  exposed  to  vulgar  gaze.  Thank  you  for 
the  manual,  which  I  have  had  so  long.  I  trust  I  did 
not  bestow  those  scratches  on  the  cover.  I  have  been 
trying  to  find  a  French  book  that  you  were  not  likely 
to  have  read,  but  I  do  not  think  I  have  one,  unless  it 
be  "  Gil  Bias,"  which  you  are  perhaps  too  virtuous  to 
have  read,  though  how  any  one  can  opine  it  to  have  a 
vicious  tendency  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conjecture.  They 
might  as  well  say  that  to  condemn  a  person  to  eat  a 
whole  plum -pudding  would  deprive  him  of  all  future 
relish  for  plain  food.  I  have  had  a  visitor  ever  since 
Saturday,  and  she  will  stay  till  Saturday  again.  I 
cannot  desire  that  you  should  ««ask  Violin  and  Flute, 
unless  a  postponement  would  be  in  every  way  as 
agreeable  to  you  and  them.  If  you  have  them,  you 
will  give  them  much  more  pleasure  as  Piano  than  I, 
so  do  not  think  of  me  in  the  matter  for  a  moment. 
Good-bye  ;  and  remember  to  treat  your  cold  as  if  it 
were  an  orphan's  cold,  or  a  widow's  cold,  or  any  one's 
cold  but  your  own. 

The  following  is  the  letter  before  referred  to  as 
containing   an    important   and    noteworthy  decla- 
ration of  opinion  on  the  very  interesting  question 
of  conformity  : 
The  first  thing  I  have  to  say  to  YOU  is  to  entreat  that  Letter  to 

3  '  Miss  Sara 

you  and  Mrs.  Hennell  will  not  perplex  yourselves  for  Henneii, 

j      •  ,       •  •    ,       9th  Oct. 

a  moment  about  my  accommodation  during  the  night.  '843- 
I  am  so  well  now  that  a  hearthrug  would  be  as  luxu- 
rious a  couch  as  I  should  need,  and  I  defy  anything 


88  Truth  of  Feeling.  [FOLESHILL, 

short  of  a  kettledrum 
awake  after  a  long  day. 


Letter  to    short  of  a  kettledrum  or  my  conscience  to  keep  me 

Miss  Sara  ' 


1843.  The  subject  of  your  conversation  with  Miss  D 


is  a  very  important  one,  and  worth  an  essay.  I  will 
not  now  inflict  one  of  mine  on  you,  but  I  will  tell  you, 
as  briefly  as  possible,  my  present  opinion,  which  you 
know  is  contrary  to  the  one  I  held  in  the  first  instance. 
I  am  inclined  to  think  that  such  a  change  of  senti- 
ment is  likely  to  happen  to  most  persons  whose  views 
on  religious  matters  undergo  a  change  early  in  life. 
The  first  impulse  of  a  young  and  ingenuous  mind  is 
to  withhold  the  slightest  sanction  from  all  that  con- 
tains even  a  mixture  of  supposed  error.  When  the 
soul  is  just  liberated  from  the  wretched  giant's  bed  of 
dogmas  on  which  it  has  been  racked  and  stretched 
ever  since  it  began  to  think,  there  is  a  feeling  of  ex- 
ultation and  strong  hope.  We  think  we  shall  run 
well  when  we  have  the  full  use  of  our  limbs  and  the 
bracing  air  of.  independence,  and  we  believe  that  we 
shall  soon  obtain  something  positive,  which  will  not 
only  more  than  compensate  us  for  what  we  have  re- 
nounced, but  will  be  so  well  worth  offering  to  others 
that  we  may  venture  to  proselytize  as  fast  as  our  zeal 
for  truth  may  prompt  us.  But  a  year  or  two  of  reflec- 
tion, and  the  experience  of  our  own  miserable  weak- 
ness, which  will  ill  afford  to  part  even  with  the  crutch 
of  superstition,  must,  I  think,  effect  a  change.  Specu- 
lative truth  begins  to  appear  but  a  shadow  of  indi- 
vidual minds.  Agreement  between  intellects  seems 
unattainable,  and  we  turn  to  the  truth  of  feeling  as 
the  only  universal  bond  of  union.  We  find  that  the  in- 
tellectual errors  which  we  once  fancied  were  a  mere 
incrustation  have  grown  into  the  living  body,  and  that 
we  cannot,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  wrench  them  away 


i 843-]  Quackery  of  Infidelity.  89 

without  destroying  vitality.     We  begin   to  find  that  Letter  to 

/      &  J    .  MissSare 

with  individuals,  as  with  nations,  the  only  safe  revolu-  Henneii, 

r     i  ,  •    L      ,     •  9th  Oct. 

tion  is  one  arising  out  of  the  wants  which  their  own  1843. 
progress  has  generated.  It  is  the  quackery  of  infidel- 
ity to  suppose  that  it  has  a  nostrum  for  all  mankind, 
and  to  say  to  all  and  singular,  "  Swallow  my  opinions 
and  you  shall  be  whole."  If,  then,  we  are  debarred 
by  such  considerations  from  trying  to  reorganize  opin- 
ions, are  we  to  remain  aloof  from  our  fellow-creatures 
on  occasions  when  we  may  fully  sympathize  with  the 
feelings  exercised,  although  our  own  have  been  melted 
into  another  mould  ?  Ought  we  not  on  every  oppor- 
tunity to  seek  to  have  our  feelings  in  harmony,  though 
not  in  union,  with  those  who  are  often  richer  in  the 
fruits  of  faith,  though  not  in  reason,  than  ourselves  ? 
The  results  of  nonconformity  in  a  family  are  just  an 
epitome  of  what  happens  on  a  larger  scale  in  the 
world.  An  influential  member  chooses  to  omit  an 
observance  which,  in  the  minds  of  all  the  rest,  is  asso- 
ciated with  what  is  highest  and  most  venerable.  He 
cannot  make  his  reasons  intelligible,  and  so  his  con- 
duct is  regarded  as  a  relaxation  of  the  hold  that  moral 
ties  had  on  him  previously.  The  rest  are  infected 
with  the  disease  they  imagine  in  him.  All  the  screws 
by  which  order  was  maintained  are  loosened,  and  in 
more  than  one  case  a  person's  happiness  may  be 
ruined  by  the  confusion  of  ideas  which  took  the  form 
of  principles.  But,  it  may  be  said,  how  then  are  we 
to  do  anything  towards  the  advancement  of  mankind  ? 
Are  we  to  go  on  cherishing  superstitions  out  of  a  fear 
that  seems  inconsistent  with  any  faith  in  a  Supreme 
Being?  I  think  the  best  and  the  only  way  of  fulfilling 
our  mission  is  to  sow  good  seed  in  good  (/.  e.,  prepared) 
ground,  and  not  to  root  up  tares  where  we  must  in- 


90  Dangers  of  Non-conformity.    [FOLKSHIM, 

Letter  to    evitablv  gather  all  the  wheat  with  them.     We  cannot 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,  fight  and  struggle  enough  for  freedom  of  inquiry,  and 
1843.  we  need  not  be  idle  in  imparting  all  that  is  pure  and 
lovely  to  children  whose  minds  are  unbespoken.  Those 
who  can  write,  let  them  do  it  as  boldly  as  they  like ; 
and  let  no  one  hesitate  at  proper  seasons  to  make  a 
full  <w/fession  (far  better  than  /wfession).  St.  Paul's 
reasoning  about  the  conduct  of  the  strong  towards  the 
weak,  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  chapters  of 
Romans,  is  just  in  point.  But  I  have  not  said  half 
what  I  meant  to  say.  There  are  so  many  aspects  in 
which  the  subject  might  be  presented  that  it  is  use- 
less to  attempt  to  exhaust  it.  I  fear  I  have  written 
very  unintelligibly,  for  it  is  rather  late,  and  I  am  so 
cold  that  my  thoughts  are  almost  frozen. 

After  Miss  Brabant's  marriage  to  Mr.  Charles 
Hennell,  Miss  Evans  went  to  stay  for  a  week  or 
two  with  Dr.  Brabant  at  Devizes,  and  some  time 
about  the  beginning  of  January,  1844,  the  proposi- 
tion was  made  for  the  transfer  of  the  translation 
of  Strauss  from  Mrs.  Charles  Hennell.  At  the 
end  of  April,  1844,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Sara 
Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  is  "  working  away  at 
Strauss  six  pages  a  day,"  and  the  next  letter  from 
Miss  Evans  refers  to  the  beginning  of  the  under- 
taking. 
Letter  to  To  begin  with  business,  I  send  you  on  the  other  side 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    the  translations  you  wished   (Strauss),  but  they  are 

Sunday,  J  ^ 

Way,  1844  perhaps  no  improvements  on  what  you  had  done.  I 
shall  be  very  glad  to  learn  from  you  the  particulars  as 
to  the  mode  of  publication — who  are  the  parties  that 
will  find  the  funds,  and  whether  the  manuscripts  are 
to  be  put  into  the  hands  of  any  one  when  complete, 
or  whether  they  are  to  go  directly  from  me  to  the  pub- 


1844-]  Child's  Real  Feelings.  91 

lishers?     I  was  very  foolish  not  to  imagine  about  these  Letter  to 

,..._.  .  .  Miss  Sara 

things  in  the  first  instance,  but  ways  and  means  are  Henneii, 
always  afterthoughts  with  me.  May,  1844 

You  will  soon  be  settled  and  enjoying  the  blessed 
spring  and  summer  time.  I  hope  you  are  looking  for- 
ward to  it  with  as  much  delight  as  I.  One  has  to 
spend  so  many  years  in  learning  how  to  be  happy.  I 
am  just  beginning  to  make  some  progress  in  the  sci- 
ence, and  I  hope  to  disprove  Young's  theory  that  "  as 
soon  as  we  have  found  the  key  of  life  it  opes  the  gates 
of  death."  Every  year  strips  us  of  at  least  one  vain 
expectation,  and  teaches  us  to  reckon  some  solid  good 
in  its  stead.  I  never  will  believe  that  our  youngest 
days  are  our  happiest.  What  a  miserable  augury  for 
the  progress  of  the  race  and  the  destination  of  the  in- 
dividual if  the  more  matured  and  enlightened  state  is 
the  less  happy  one  !  Childhood  is  only  the  beautiful 
and  happy  time  in  contemplation  and  retrospect :  to 
the  child  it  is  full  of  deep  sorrows,  the  meaning  of 
which  is  unknown.  Witness  colic  and  whooping-cough 
and  dread  of  ghosts,  to  say  nothing  of  hell  and  Satan, 
and  an  offended  Deity  in  the  sky,  who  was  angry  when 
I  wanted  too  much  plumcake.  Then  the  sorrows  of 
older  persons,  which  children  see  but  cannot  under- 
stand, are  worse  than  all.  All  this  to  prove  that  we 
are  happier  than  when  we  were  seven  years  old,  and 
that  we  shall  be  happier  when  we  are  forty  than  we 
are  now,  which  I  call  a  comfortable  doctrine,  and  one 
worth  trying  to  believe!  I  am  sitting  with  father,  who 
every  now  and  then  jerks  off  my  attention  to  the  his- 
tory of  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  he  is  reading. 

On  the  ist  July,  1844,  there  was  another  little 
trip  with  the  Brays  to  the  Cumberland  lakes,  this 
time  returning  by  Manchester  and  Liverpool ;  and 


92  Strauss  Translation.         [FOLESHILL, 

on  reaching  home,  about  the  beginning  of  August, 
there  is  the  following  letter  : 
Letter  to    Can  I  have  the  remaining  volumes  of  Strauss,  except- 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,  ing  any  part  that  you  may  choose  to  keep  for  your  own 
Aug.  1844.  use?  If  you  could  also  send  me  such  parts  of  the  in- 
troduction and  first  section  as  you  wish  me  to  look 
over,  I  should  like  to  despatch  that  business  at  inter- 
vals, when  I  am  not  inspired  for  more  thorough  labor. 
Thank  you  for  the  encouragement  you  sent  me.  I 
only  need  it  when  my  head  is  weak  and  I  am  unable 
to  do  much.  Then  I  sicken  at  the  idea  of  having 
Strauss  in  my  head  and  on  my  hands  for  a  lustrum, 
instead  of  saying  good-bye  to  him  in  a  year.  When  I 
can  work  fast  I  am  never  weary,  nor  do  I  regret  either 
that  the  work  has  been  begun  or  that  I  have  under- 
taken it.  I  am  only  inclined  to  vow  that  I  will  never 
translate  again,  if  I  live  to  correct  the  sheets  for 
Strauss.  My  first  page  is  257. 
Letter  to  Pray  tell  Mrs.  C.  Hennell  that  no  apology  was 

Miss  Sara  J  °J 

Henneii,     needed  for  the  very  good  translation  she  has  sent  me. 

3istOct.  '   b 

1844-  I  shall  be  glad  to  avail  myself  of  it  to  the  last  word, 
for  I  am  thoroughly  tired  of  my  own  garb  for  Strauss's 
thoughts.  I  hope  the  introduction,  etc.,  will  be  ready 
by  the  end  of  November,  when  I  hope  to  have  put  the 
last  words  to  the  first  volume.  I  am  awfully  afraid  of 
my  own  translation,  and  I  want  you  to  come  and  com- 
fort me.  I  am  relapsing  into  heathen  darkness  about 
everything  but  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John. 
"  Heaven  has  sent  leanness  into  my  soul  " — for  revil- 
ing them.  I  suppose.  This  lovely  autumn  !  Have  you 
enjoyed  its  long  shadows  and  fresh  breezes  ? 

Letterto        j  cjo  not  think  it  was  kind  to  Strauss  (I  knew  he 

Mrs.  Bray, 

e"d°f  was  handsome)  to  tell  him  that  a  young  lady  was 
translating  his  book.  I  am  sure  he  must  have  some 


i845-]  Poetry  of  Christianity.  93 

twinges  of  alarm  to  think  he  was  dependent  on  that  fetter  to 

Mrs.  Bray. 

most  contemptible  specimen  of  the  human  being  for  end  of 
his  English  reputation.  By  the  way,  I  never  said  that 
the  Canons  of  the  Council  of  Nice,  or  the  Confession 
of  Augsburg,  or  even  the  Thirty -nine  Articles,  are 
suggestive  of  poetry.  I  imagine  no  dogmas  can  be. 
But  surely  Christianity,  with  its  Hebrew  retrospect 
and  millennial  hopes,  the  heroism  and  divine  sorrow 
of  its  founder,  and  all  its  glorious  army  of  martyrs, 
might  supply,  and  has  supplied,  a  strong  impulse  not 
only  to  poetry,  but  to  all  the  Fine  Arts.  Mr.  Pears  is 
coming  home  from  Malvern  to-night,  and  the  children 
are  coming  to  tea  with  me,  so  that  I  have  to  make 
haste  with  my  afternoon  matters.  Beautiful  little  Su- 
san has  been  blowing  bubbles,  and  looking  like  an 
angel  at  sport.  I  am  quite  happy,  only  sometimes 
feeling  "the  weight  of  all  this  unintelligible  world." 

Your  books  are  come  for  the  school,  and  I  have-Letter  to 
covered  them — at  least  those  that  I  think  you  will  like  Sunday, 

r         i  i  -i  i  c  beginning 

ior  the  children;  two  or  three  are  quite  for  grown-up  of  1845. 
people.  What  an  exquisite  little  thing  that  is  of  Har- 
riet Martineau's  —  "  The  Crofton  Boys  "  !  I  have  had 
some  delightful  crying  over  it.  There  are  two  or  three 
lines  in  it  that  would  feed  one's  soul  for  a  month. 
Hugh's  mother  says  to  him,  speaking  of  people  who 
have  permanent  sorrow,  "They  soon  had  a  new  and 
delicious  pleasure,  which  none  but  the  bitterly  disap- 
pointed can  feel — the  pleasure  of  rousing  their  souls 
to  bear  pain,  and  of  agreeing  with  God  silently,  when 
nobody  knows  what  is  in  their  hearts."  I  received 
"  Sybil  "  yesterday  quite  safely.  I  am  not  utterly  dis- 
gusted with  DTsraeli.  The  man  hath  good  veins,  as 
Bacon  would  say,  but  there  is  not  enough  blood  in 
them. 


94  Harriet  Martineau.         [FOLESHILL, 

The  i yth  April  this  year  was  an  interesting  day, 
as  Miss  Evans  went  with  the  Brays  to  Atherstone 
Hall,  and  met  Harriet  Martineau  for  the  first  time. 
It  will  be  seen  that  in  later  years  there  was  con- 
siderable intimacy  between  them. 

Letter  to    If  you  think  any  of  my  future  manuscript  too  untidy 
Henneii,    for  the  printer,  only  mark  it  to  that  effect,  and  I  will 

zoth  April, 

'845-  rewrite  it,  for  I  do  not  mind  that  mechanical  work  ; 
and  my  conscience  is  rather  uneasy  lest  the  illegibility 
of  my  hand  should  increase  materially  the  expense  of 
the  publication.  Do  not  be  alarmed  because  I  am 
not  well  just  now :  I  shall  be  better  very  soon,  and  I 
am  not  really  disgusted  with  Strauss.  I  only  fancy  so 
sometimes,  as  I  do  with  all  earthly  things. 

In  June  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell  that 

Miss  Evans  "looks  all  the  better  of  her  London 

trip.     I  never  saw  her  so  blooming  and  buoyant;" 

but  the  two  next  letters  show  a  relapse. 

Letter  to    Glad  am  I  that  some  one  can  enjoy  Strauss!     The 

Miss  Sara  >  J    ' 

Henneii,    million   certainly  will  not,  and  I  have  ceased  to  sit 

end  of 

June,        down  to  him  with  any  relish.     I  should  work  much 
(?)  1845. 

better  if  I  had  some  proof-sheets  coming  in  to  assure 

me  that  my  soul-stupefying  labor  is  not  in  vain.  I 
am  more  grateful  to  you  than  I  can  tell  you  for  taking 
the  trouble  you  do.  If  it  had  not  been  for  your  inter- 
est and  encouragement  I  should  have  been  almost  in 
despair  by  this  time. 

And  again,  a  little  later  : 

I  begin  utterly  to  despair  that  Strauss  will  ever  be 
published,  unless  I  can  imitate  the  Rev.  Mr.  Davis, 
and  print  it  myself.  At  the  very  best,  if  we  go  on  ac- 
cording to  the  rate  of  procedure  hitherto,  the  book  will 
not  be  published  within  the  next  two  years.  This 
seems  dolorous  enough  to  me,  whose  only  real  satis- 


1845.]        Delay  in  Publication  of  Strauss.  95 

faction  just  now  is  some  hope  that  I  am  not  sowing  Letter  to 

J  °  Miss  Sara 

the  wind.     It  is  very  laughable  that  I  should  be  irri-  Henneii, 

end  of 

tated  about  a  thing  in  itself  so  trifling  as  a  translation,  June,  1845 
but  it  is  the  very  triviality  of  the  thing  that  makes  de- 
lays provoking.  The  difficulties  that  attend  a  really 
grand  undertaking  are  to  be  borne,  but  things  should 
run  smoothly  and  fast  when  they  are  not  important 
enough  to  demand  the  sacrifice  of  one's  whole  soul. 
The  second  volume  is  quite  ready.  The  last  few  sec- 
tions were  written  under  anything  but  favorable  cir- 
cumstances. They  are  not  Strauss's  best  thoughts, 
nor  are  they  put  into  his  translator's  best  language ; 
but  I  have  not  courage  tP  imitate  Gibbon  —  put  my 
work  in  the  fire  and  begin  again. 

In  July,  1845,  there  seems  to  have  arisen  some 
difficulty  in  getting  in  the  cash  subscriptions  for  the 
publication.  Mr.  Charles  Hennell  and  Mr.  Joseph 
Parkes,  however,  exerted  themselves  in  the  mat- 
ter, and  ^£300  was  collected,  and  the  following  let- 
ter shows  the  relief  it  was  to  Miss  Evans  : 
Thank  you  for  sending  me  the  good  news  so  soon,  Letter  to 

Charles 

and  for  sympathizing  in  my  need  of  encouragement.  Henneii, 
I  have  all  I  want  now,  and  shall  go  forward  on  buoy-  evening, 
ant  wing.     I  am  glad  for  the  work's  sake,  glad  for 
your  sake,  and  glad  for  "  the  honorable  gentleman's  " 
sake,  that  matters  have  turned  out  so  well.      Pray 
think  no  more  of  my  pens,  ink,  and  paper.     I  would 
gladly  give  much  more  towards  the  work  than  these 
and  my  English,  if  I  could  do  so  consistently  with 
duty. 

The  book  now  got  into  the  hands  of  the  print- 
ers, as  will  be  seen  from  the  next  letter : 
I  have  just  been  looking  over  some  of  the  revise,  and  Mis^Sara 
reading  again  your  sweet  letter  to  me  from  Hastings,  Aug'Tg!,'* 


96  Strauss  Translation  Printing.   [FULESIULL, 

Letter  to    and  an  impulse  of  gratitude  and  love  will  not  let  me 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    rest  without  writing  you  a  little  note,  though  mv  hand 

Aug.  1845. 

has  almost  done  its  possible  for  the  clay  under  this 
intense  heat.  You  do  not  guess  how  much  pleasure 
it  gives  me  to  look  over  your  pencillings,  they  prove 
so  clearly  that  you  have  really  entered  into  the  mean 
ing  of  every  sentence,  and  it  always  gives  one  satis- 
faction to  see  the  evidence  of  brain-work.  I  am  quite 
indebted  to  you  for  your  care,  and  I  feel  greatly  the 
advantage  of  having  a  friend  to  undertake  the  office 
of  critic.  There  is  one  word  I  must  mention — Azazel 
is  the  word  put  in  the  original  of  the  Old  Testament 
for  the  scapegoat :  now  I  imagine  there  is  some  dubi- 
ousness about  the  meaning,  and  that  Strauss  would 
not  think  it  right  to  translate  scapegoat,  because,  from 
the  tenor  of  his  sentence,  he  appears  to  include  Azazel 
with  the  evil  demons.  I  wonder  if  it  be  supposed  by 
any  one  that  Azazel  is  in  any  way  a  distinct  being  from 
the  goat.  I  know  no  Hebrew  scholar,  and  have  access 
to  no  Hebrew  lexicon.  Have  you  asked  Mr.  Hennell 
about  it? 

Your  letter  describes  what  I  have  felt  rather  than 
what  I  feel.  It  seems  as  if  my  affections  were  quietly 
sinking  down  to  temperate,  and  I  every  day  seem 
more  and  more  to  value  thought  rather  than  feeling. 
I  do  not  think  this  is  man's  best  estate,  but  it  is  bet- 
ter than  what  I  have  sometimes  known. 
Letter  to  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  that  I  should  like  to 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    be  idle  with  you  for  a  little  while,  more  than  anything 

Friday  * 

evening,     else    I  can  think  of  just   now.     But,  alas !    leathery 

autumn  of 

•845.  brain  must  work  at  leathery  Strauss  for  a  short  time 
before  my  butterfly  days  come.  O,  how  I  shall 
spread  my  wings  then  !  Anent  the  Greek,  it  would 
produce  very  dreadful  cold  perspirations  indeed  in 


X845-.1  Strauss  "Proofs."  97 

me,  if  there  were  anything  amounting  to  a  serious  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

error,  but  this,  I  trust,  there  will  not  be.     You  must  Henneii, 

Friday 

really  expect  me,  if  not  to  sleep  and  snore  ahquando,  evening, 

autumn  of 

at  least  to  nod  in  the  course  of  some  thousand  pages.  1845. 
I  should  like  you  to  be  deliberate  over  the  Schluss 
Abhandlung.     It  is  the  only  part  on  which  I  have  be- 
stowed much  pains,  for  the  difficulty  was  piquing,  not 
piquant. 

I  am  never  pained  when  I  think  Strauss  right  :  but  Better  to 

Miss  Sara 

in  many  cases  I  think  him  wrong,  as  every  man  must  Henneii, 

J  no  date, 

be  in  working  out  into  detail  an  idea  which  has  gen-  l84S- 
eral  truth,  but  is  only  one  element  in  a  perfect  theory 
— not  a  perfect  theory  in  itself. 

I  am  delighted  with  the  proof.    The  type  and  every- Letter  to 

J  r  •*    Miss  Sara 

thing  else  are  iust  what  I  wished.     To  see  the  first  Henneii, 

2  5th  Sept 

sheet  is  the  next  best  thing  to  seeing  the  last,  which  1 1845- 
hope  we  shall  all  have  done  this  time  next  year. 
There  is  a  very  misty  vision  of  a  trip  to  the  Highlands 
haunting  us  in  this  quarter.  The  vision  would  be 
much  pleasanter  if  Sara  were  one  of  the  images  in  it. 
You  would  surely  go  if  we  went,  and  then  the  thing 
would  be  perfect.  I  long  to  see  you,  for  you  are  be- 
coming a  sort  of  transfigured  existence,  a  mere  ideal 
to  me,  and  I  have  nothing  to  tell  me  of  your  real  flesh- 
and-blood  self  but  sundry  very  useful  little  pencil- 
marks,  and  a  scrap  of  Mrs.  Bray's  notes  now  and 
then.  So,  if  you  would  have  me  bear  in  my  memory 
your  own  self,  and  not  some  aerial  creation  that  I  call 
by  your  name,  you  must  make  your  appearance. 

In  October  "  the  misty  vision  "  took  palpable 
shape,  and  the  Brays,  Miss  Henneii,  and  Miss 
Evans  had  a  delightful  fortnight  in  Scotland,  vis- 
iting Loch  Lomond  and  Loch  Katrine,  The  Tros- 
sachs,  Stirling,  Edinburgh,  Melrose,  and  Abbots- 
5 


98  Trip  to  Scotland,  [FOLESHILL, 

ford.  They  were  away  from  the  i4th  to  the  28th, 
and  on  returning  to  Coventry  Strauss  was  taken 
up  again.  Miss  Hennell  was  reading  the  transla- 
tion, and  aiding  with  suggestions  and  corrections. 
The  next  letter  to  her  seems  to  be  dated  in  Novem- 
ber. 
Better  to  please  to  tell  Mr.  Hennell  that  "habits  of  thought  " 

Miss  Sara 

Hennell,    js  not  a  translation  of  the  word  particularismus.     This 

Nov.  1845. 

does  not  mean  national  idiosyncrasy,  but  is  a  word 
which  characterizes  that  idiosyncrasy.  If  he  decidedly 
objects  to  particularism,  ask  him  to  be  so  good  as 
substitute  exclusiveness,  though  there  is  a  shade  of 
meaning  in  particularismus  which  even  that  does  not 
express.  It  was  because  the  word  could  only  be 
translated  by  a  circumlocution  that  I  ventured  to  An- 
glicize it. 
Letter  to  \  have  been  idle,  and  have  not  done  a  stroke  to  the 

Miss  Sara 

Hennell,    prefaces,  but  they  shall  be  sent  as  soon  as  possible. 

Tuesday  ' 

morning,    Thanks  for  the  copy  of  the  Latin  preface  and  letter. 

l?)  184*.     They  are  in  preconceived  harmony  with  my  ideas  of 
the  appropriate. 

I  will  leave  the  titlepage  to  you  and  Mr.  Hennell. 
Thanks  for  the  news  in  your  last  extra  Blatt.  I  am 
glad  to  find  that  the  theological  organs  are  beginning 
to  deal  with  philosophy,  but  I  can  hardly  imagine  your 
writer  to  be  a  friend  with  a  false  cognizance  on  his 
shield.  These  dear  orthodox  people  talk  so  simply 
sometimes  that  one  cannot  help  fancying  them  satir- 
ists of  their  own  doctrines  and  fears,  though  they  mean 
manfully  to  fight  against  the  enemy.  I  should  like  if 
possible  to  throw  the  emphasis  on  critically  in  the  title- 
page.  Strauss  means  it  to  be  so:  and  yet  I  do  not 
know  how  we  can  put  anything  better  than  what  you 
say. 


1846.]  Translator's  Difficulties.  99 

I  send  you  to-day  the  conclusion  of  the  chapter  you  Letter  to 

T  11  ^          1  ^1     •  f    •  M'SS  Sara 

are  reading,  and,  unless  you  find  anything  ol  itnpor-.HenneU, 

Dec.  1845. 

tance  to  be  rectified,  you  need  not  return  this  to  me. 
but  may  forward  the  whole  to  the  printer  as  soon  as 
you  have  read  it.  I  am  not  altogether  satisfied  with 
the  use  of  the  word  sacrament  as  applied  specifically 
to  the  Abendmahl.  It  seems  like  a  vulgarism  to  say 
the  sacrament  for  one  thing,  and  for  another  it  does 
not  seem  ^original  enough  in  the  life  of  Jesus;  but  I 
know  of  no  other  word  that  can  be  substituted.  I 
have  altered  passover  to  paschal  meal,  but  ™  Trauma  is 
used  in  the  New  Testament  of  the  eating  of  the  lamb 
par  excellence.  You  remember,  in  the  title  of  the  first 
section  in  the  Schluss — which  I  had  been  so  careless 
as  to  omit — the  expression  is  "  Nothwendiger  Ueber- 
gang  der  Kritik  in  das  Dogma."  Now,  dogmatism 
will  not  do,  as  that  would  represent  Dogmatismus. 
"  Dogmatik  "  is  the  idea,  I  believe — /.  e.,  positive  the- 
ology. Is  it  allowable  to  say  dogmatics,  think  you  ? 
I  do  not  understand  how  the  want  of  manuscript  can 
be  so  pressing,  as  I  have  only  had  one  proof  for  the 
last  fortnight.  It  seems  quite  dispiriting  to  me  now 
not  to  see  the  proofs  regularly.  I  have  had  a  miser- 
able week  of  headache,  but  am  better  now,  and  ready 
for  work,  to  which  I  must  go. 

I  do  pity  you,  with  the  drunken  Christmas  workmen  Letter -to 

~    •>   •>  Miss  Sara 

keeping  you  in  this  uncomfortable  interregnum.     But  Henneii, 
do  not  go  distraught ;  the  spring  will  really  come  and  l8t6- 
the  birds — many  having  had  to  fly  across  the  Atlantic, 
which  is  farther  than  you  have  to  go  to  establish  your- 
self.    I  could  easily  give  the  meaning  of  the  Hebrew 
word  in  question,  as  I  know  where  to  borrow  a  lexi- 
con.    But  observe,  there  are  two  Hebrew  words  un- 
translated in  this  proof.     I  do  not  think  ;t  will  do  tf 


IOO  Father's  Illness.  [FOLESHII.L, 

Letter  to    give  the  English  in  one  place  and  not  in  another, 

Miss  Sara  .... 

Henneii,  where  there  is  no  reason  for  such  a  distinction,  and 
1846.  '  there  is  not  here,  for  the  note  in  this  proof  sounds  just 
as  fee-fo-fum-ish  as  the  other  without  any  translation. 
I  could  not  alter  the  "troublesome,"  because  it  is  the 
nearest  usable  adjective  for  schwierig,  which  stands  in 
the  German.  I  am  tired  of  inevitable  important*,  and 
cannot  bear  to  put  them  when  they  do  not  represent 
the  German. 

M?iesa°a  *  have  ^en  sacMy  occupied  for  the  last  ten  days, 
"th  jan  ^y  fatner  has  been  ill,  and  has  required  much  atten- 
1*46.  tion,  and  my  own  head  was  very  middling  for  some 
days,  so  that  I  send  you  but  a  poor  cargo  of  new 
manuscript.  Indeed,  on  looking  through  the  last 
quire  of  paper  this  morning  for  the  purpose  of  putting 
in  the  Greek,  it  seemed  all  very  poor,  to  me,  but  the 
subject  is  by  no  means  inspiring,  and  no  muse  would 
condescend  to  visit  such  an  uncertain  votary  as  I 
have  been  for  the  last  week  or  so.  How  is  it  that  I 
have  only  had  one  proof  this  week?  You  know  we 
are  five  hundred  pages  in  advance  of  the  printer,  so 
you  need  not  be  dreadfully  alarmed.  I  have  been  so 
pleased  to  hear  some  of  your  letters  read  to  me,  but, 
alas  !  I  can  reflect  no  pleasure  at  this  moment,  for  I 
have  a  woful  pain  and  am  in  a  desperate  hurry. 

On  i4th  February,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to 
Miss  Sara  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  "says  she  is 
Strauss-sick — it  makes  her  ill  dissecting  the  beau- 
tiful story  of  the  Crucifixion,  and  only  the  sight  of 
the  Christ-image '  and  picture  make  her  endure  it. 

1  This  was  an  ivory  image  she  had  of  the  Crucified  Christ  over 
the  desk  in  her  study  at  Foleshill,  where  she  did  all  her  work  at 
that  time — a  little  room  on  the  first  floor,  with  a  charming  view 
over  the  country. 


1846.]  Strauss-sick.  101 

Moreover,  as  her  work  advances  nearer  its  public 
appearance,  she  grows  dreadfully  nervous.  Poor 
thing,  I  do  pity  her  sometimes,  with  her  pale,  sickly 
face  and  dreadful  headaches,  and  anxiety,  too,  about 
her  father.  This  illness  of  his  has  tried  her  so 
much,  for  all  the  time  she  had  for  rest  and  fresh 
air  she  had  to  read  to  him.  Nevertheless,  she 
looks  very  happy  and  satisfied  sometimes  in  her 
work." 

And  about  the  end  of  February  there  is  the  fol- 
lowing letter  from  Miss  Evans  : 

Health   and   greeting,  my  Achates,  in   this   veritable  Le»er  to 
spring  month.     I  shall  send  you  a  parcel  on  Monday  Henneii, 
with  sixty-four  new  pages  of  German  for  your  intellect-  Feb- 1846. 
ual  man.     The  next  parcel,  which  will  be  the  LAST,  I 
shall  send  on  the  Monday  following,  and  when  you  have 
read  to  the  end,  you  may,  if  you  think  it  desirable,  send 
the  whole  to  me.     Your  dull  ass  does  not  mend  his 
pace  for  beating ;  but  he  does  mend  it  when  he  finds 
out  that  he  is  near  his  journey's  end,  and  makes  you 
wonder  how  he  could  pretend  to  find  all  the  previous 
drawing  so  hard  for  him.     I  plead  guilty  to  having  set 
off  in  a  regular  scamper :  but  be  lenient  and  do  not 
scold  me  if  you  find  all  sorts  of  carelessnesses  in  these 
last  hundred  pages. 

I  have  been  guilty  of  the  most  unpardonable  piece  Letter  to 

*  r ,          Miss  Sara 

of  carelessness,  for  which  I  am  stretched  on  a  rack  of  Henneii, 

end  of 

anxiety  and  mortification.  In  the  proof  that  came  on  Feb.  1816. 
Thursday  I  unwittingly  drew  out  a  quarter  sheet  with 
the  blotting-paper,  and  did  not  discover  the  mistake 
until  Saturday  morning,  when  about  to  correct  the  last 
proof.  Surely  the  printer  would  discover  the  absence 
of  the  four  pages  and  wait  for  them — otherwise  I  would 
rather  have  lost  one  of  my  fingers,  or*  all  the  hair  from 


IO2  Finishing  Translation.        [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    my  head,  than  have  committed  su.ch  a.  faux  pas.    For 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    there  were  three   very  awkward  blunders  to  be  cor- 

end  of 

Feb.  .846.  reeled.  All  this  vexation  makes  a  cold  and  headache 
doubly  intolerable,  and  I  am  in  a  most  purgatorial 
state  on  this  "good  Sunday."  I  shall  send  the  proofs, 
with  the  unfortunate  quarter  sheet  and  an  explanation, 
to-night  to  Mr.  Chapman,  and  prithee  do  thou  inquire 
and  see  that  the  right  thing  is  done.  The  tears  are 
streaming  from  my  smarting  eyes — so  farewell. 

Letter  to        j  wish  we  could  get  the  book  out  in  May — why  not  ? 

Miss  Sara  t  * 

Mchnfsf6  ^  suPPose  tne  binding  could  not  be  all  got  through — 
the  printing  and  writing  I  should  think  might  be  man- 
aged in  time.  Shouldn't  I  like  to  fleet  the  time  away 
with  thee  as  they  did  in  the  Golden  Age — after  all  our 
toils  to  lie  reclined  on  the  hills  (spiritually),  like  gods 
together,  careless  of  mankind.  Sooth  to  speak,  idle- 
ness, and  idleness  with  thee,  is  just  the  most  tempting 
mirage  you  could  raise  before  my  mind's  eye — I  say 
mirage,  because  I  am  determined  from  henceforth  to 
believe  in  no  substantiality  for  future  time,  but  to  live 
in  and  love  the  present — of  which  I  have  done  too  lit- 
tle. Still,  the  thought  of  being  with  you  in  your  own 
home  will  attract  me  to  that  future;  for  without  all 
controversy  I  love  thee  and  miss  thee. 

Letter  to        My  soul  kisses  thee,  dear  Sara,  in  gratitude  for  those 

Miss  Sara  ' 

Henneii,  dewy  thoughts  of  thine  in  this  morning's  note.  My 
poor  adust  soul  wants  such  refreshment.  Continue  to 
do  me  good — hoping  for  nothing  again.  I  have  had 
my  sister  with  me  all  day — an  interruption,  alas  !  I 
cannot  write  more,  but  I  should  not  be  happy  to  let 
the  day  pass  without  saying  one  word  to  thee. 

Letter  to        The  last  hundred  pages  have  certainly  been  totally 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    uninteresting  to  me,  considered  as  matter  for  transla- 

Mch.  1846.     . 

tion.     Strauss  has  inevitably  anticipated  in  the  earlier 


1846.]     Miss  HenneWs  Help  in  Translation.      103 

part  of  his  work  all  the  principles  and  many  of  the  de-  Letter  to  • 

J  Miss  Sara 

tails  of  his  criticism,  and  he  seems   fagged  himself.  Henneii, 

Mch.  1846. 

Mais  courage!  the  neck  of  the  difficulty  is  broken,  and 
there  is  really  very  little  to  be  done  now.  If  one's 
head  would  but  keep  in  anything  like  thinking  and 
writing  order  !  Mine  has  robbed  me  of  half  the  last 
fortnight  ;  but  I  am  a  little  better  now,  and  am  saying 
to  myself  Frisch  zu  !  The  Crucifixion  and  the  Resur- 
rection are,  at  all  events,  better  than  the  bursting  asun- 
der of  Judas.  I  am  afraid  I  have  not  made  this  dull 
part  of  Strauss  even  as  tolerable  as  it  might  be,  for 
both  body  and  mind  have  recoiled  from  it.  Thank 
you,  dearest,  for  all  your  love  and  patience  for  me  and 
with  me.  I  have  nothing  on  earth  to  complain  of  but 
subjective  maladies.  Father  is  pretty  well,  and  I  have 
not  a  single  excuse  for  discontent  through  the  livelong 
day. 

As  I  believe  that  even  your  kindness  cannot  over-  Letter  to 

Miss  Sar 

come  your  sincerity,  I  will  cast  aside  my  fear  that  Henneii, 

.  .  .  end  °{ 

your  wish  to  see  me  in  your  own  home  is  rather  aMch.i846. 

plan  for  my  enjoyment  than  for  yours.  I  believe  it 
would  be  an  unmixed  pleasure  to  me  to  be  your  visitor, 
and  one  that  I  would  choose  among  a  whole  bouquet 
of  agreeable  possibilities  ;  so  I  will  indulge  myself, 
and  accept  the  good  that  the  heavens  and  you  offer 
me.  I  am  miserably  in  want  of  you  to  stir  up  my  soul 
and  make  it  shake  its  wings,  and  begin  some  kind  of 
flight  after  something  good  and  noble,  for  I  am  in  a  • 
grovelling,  slothful  condition,  and  you  are  the  only 
friend  I  possess  who  has  an  animating  influence  over 
me.  I  have  written  to  Mr.  Henneii  anent  the  title- 
page,  and  have  voted  for  critically  examined,  from  an  Miss  Sara 
entire  conviction  of  its  preferableness.  beginning 

See  what  it  is  to  have  a  person  en  rapport  with  you,  ?846P" 


Sara 


IO4  Strauss  Finislicd.  [FOLESHILL, 

letter1  to    that  knows  all  your  thoughts  without  the  trouble  of 

Miss  Sara 

Henncii,    communication  !     I  am  especially  grateful  to  you  lor 

of  April,    restoring  the  "therefore"  to  its  right  place.      I  was 
'•<»<••.  i 

about  to  write  to  you  to  get  you  to  remonstrate  about 

this  and  the  "dispassionate  calmness,"  which  I  did 
not  at  all  like ;  but  I  thought  you  had  corrected  the 
prefaces,  as  the  marks  against  the  Latin  looked  like 
yours,  so  I  determined  to  indulge  my  laissez-faire  incli- 
nations, for  I  hate  stickling  and  debating  unless  it  be 
for  something  really  important.     I  do  really  like  read- 
ing our  Strauss — he  is  so  klar  und  ideenvoll;  but  I  do 
not  know  one  person  who  is  likely  to  read  the  book 
through — do  you  ?     Next  week  we  will  be  merry  and 
sad,  wise  and  nonsensical,  devout  and  wicked,  together. 
On  igth  April,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss 
Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  is  "as  happy  as  you  may 
imagine  at  her  work  being  done.     She  means  to 
come  and  read  Shakespeare  through  to  us  as  her 
first  enjoyment."     And  again,  on  ayth  April,  that 
she  "  is  delighted  beyond  measure  with  Strauss's 
elegant  preface.     It  is  just  what  she  likes.     And 
what  a  nice  letter  too !     The  Latin  is  quite  beyond 
me,  but  the  letter  shows  how  neatly  he  can  express 
himself." 

SUMMARY. 

MARCH,  1841,  TO  APRIL,  1846. 

Foleshill — New  friends — Mrs.  Pears — Coventry  life  and  en- 
gagements— Letters  to  Miss  Lewis — Brother's  marriage — Mental 
depression — Reading  Nichol's  "  Architecture  of  the  Heavens  and 
Phenomena  of  the  Solar  System  " — Makes  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bray — Reads  Charles  Hennell's  book,"  An  Inquiry  Con- 
cerning the  Origin  of  Christianity  " — Effect  of  this  book — Gives 
up  going  to  church — Family  difficulties — Letters  to  Mrs.  Pears — 
Visit  to  Griff— Returns  to  Foleshill  and  resumes  going  to  church 


1846.]  Summary  of  Chapter  II.  105 

—  Acquaintance  with  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  and  development  of 
friendship  with  her  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray — Letters  to  Miss  Sara 
Hennell  describing  mental  characteristics — Attitude  towards  im- 
mortality—  Death  of  Miss  Mary  Hennell  —  Excursion  with  the 
Brays,  Mr.  Charles  Hennell,  and  Miss  Hennell  to  Stratford  and 
Malvern,  and  to  Tenby  with  same  party  and  ^liss  Brabant  — 
Meets  Robert  Owen — Studies  German  and  music  with  Mrs.  Bray 

—  Letter  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell,  with  important  declaration  of 
opinion  in  regard  to  conformity — Mr.  Charles  Hennell's  marriage 
— Stay  with  Dr.  Brabant  at  Devizes — Arrangement  for  translation 
of  Strauss's  "Leben  Jesu" — Excursion  with  Brays  to  the  Cum- 
berland lakes,  returning  by  Manchester  and  Liverpool — Weary 
of  Strauss — Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray — Poetry  of  Christianity — Admi- 
ration of  Harriet  Martineau's  "  The  Crofton  Boys  " — Trip  to  Lon- 
don— Despair  about  publication  of  Strauss — Subscription  of  ^300 
for  the  work — In  better  heart — Minutiae  of  Strauss  translation — 
Pains  taken  with  the  Schluss  Abhandlung — Opinion  of  Strauss's 
work — The  book  in  print — Trip  to  the  Highlands — Strauss  diffi- 
culties— Miss  Hennell  reads  the  translation  and  makes  sugges- 
tions— Suffering  from  headaches  and  "  Strauss-sick  " — The  last 
MS.  of  the  translation  sent  to  Miss  Hennell — Joy  at  finishing- 
Delighted  with  Strauss's  Preface. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  completion  of  the  translation  of  Strauss  is 
another  milestone  passed  in  the  life  journey  of 
George  Eliot,  and  the  comparatively  buoyant  tone 
of  the  letters  immediately  following  makes  us  feel 
that  the  galled  neck  is  out  of  the  yoke  for  a  time. 
In  May,  Mrs.  Bray  had  gone  away  from  home  for  a 
visit,  and  the  next  letter  is  addressed  to  her. 
rera  ^°  not  stay  ^onSer  tnan  ^s  necessary  to  do  you  good, 
fUrobabi  'est  ^  snou^  l°se  tne  pleasure  of  loving  you,  for  my 
Ma")^8h6.  antect'ons  are  always  the  warmest  when  my  friends  are 
within  an  attainable  distance.  I  think  I  can  manage 
to  keep  respectably  warm  towards  you  for  three  weeks 
without  seeing  you,  but  I  cannot  promise  more.  Tell 
Mr.  Bray  I  am  getting  too  amiable  for  this  world,  and 
Mr.  Donovan's  wizard  hand  would  detect  a  slight  cor- 
rugation of  the  skin  on  my  organs  5  and  6 ; l  they  are 
so  totally  without  exercise.  I  had  a  lecture  from  Mr. 
Pears  on  Eriday,  as  well  as  a  sermon  this  morning,  so 
you  need  be  in  no  alarm  for  my  moral  health.  Do 
you  never  think  of  those  Caribs  who,  by  dint  of  flatten- 
ing their  foreheads,  can  manage  to  see  perpendicularly 
above  them  without  so  much  as  lifting  their  heads  ? 
There  are  some  good  people  who  remind  me  of  them. 
They  see  everything  so  clearly  and  with  so  little  trouble, 
but  at  the  price  of  sad  self-mutilation. 

On  the  26th  May  Miss  Evans  went  to  pay  a 

1  Organs  of  Combativeness. 


1846.]         Visit  to  Henneirs  at  Hackney.  107 

visit  to  Mrs.  and  Miss  Hennell  at  Hackney,  and  she 
writes  from  there  to  Mrs.  Bray,  who  was  expected 
to  join  them  in  London. 
I  cannot  deny  that  I  am  very  happy  without  you,  but  Letter  to 

*  *          rrv  •*  Mrs.  Bray, 

perhaps  I  shall  be  happier  with  you,  so  do  not  fail  to^d°j^6 
try  the  experiment.  We  have  been  to  town  only  once, 
and  are  saving  all  our  strength  to  "rake "with  you; 
but  we  are  as  ignorant  as  Primitive  Methodists  about 
any  of  the  amusements  that  are  going.  Please  to  come 
in  a  very  mischievous,  unconscientious,  theatre-loving 
humor.  Everybody  I  see  is  very  kind  to  me,  and 
therefore  I  think  them  all  very  charming ;  and,  having 
everything  I  want,  I  feel  very  humble  and  self-deny- 
ing. It  is  only  rather  too  great  a  bore  to  have  to  write 
to  my  friends  when  I  am  half  asleep,  and  I  have  not 
yet  reached  that  pitch  of  amiability  that  makes  such 
magnanimity  easy.  Don't  bring  us  any  bad  news 
or  any  pains,  but  only  nods  and  becks  and  wreathed 
smiles. 

They  stayed  in  London  till  the  5th  June,  and  on 
the  1 5th  of  that  month  the  translation  of  Strauss 
was  published.  On  the  2d  July  Mrs.  Bray  writes 
to  Miss  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  "  is  going  to 
Dover  with  her  father,  for  a  fortnight."  In  pass- 
ing through  Dover  on  our  way  to  the  Continent, 
in  1880,  after  our  marriage,  we  visited  the  house  they 
stayed  at  in  1846,  and  my  wife  then  told  me  that  she 
had  suffered  a  great  deal  there,  as  her  father's 
health  began  to  show  signs  of  breaking  up.  On 
returning  to  Coventry  there  is  the  following  letter 
referring  to  Wicksteed's  review  of  the  translation 
of  Strauss,  which  was  advertised  for  the  forthcom-MissSara 
ing  number  of  the  Prospective  Review.  Thursday, 

Do  you  think  it  worth  my  while  to  buy  the  Prosper-  (?)Ufg46. 


108  Relief  from  Work.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    five  for  the  sake  of  Wicksteed's  review — is  there  any- 

Miss  Sara 

Hcnneii,    thing  new  in  it  ?     Do  you  know  if  Mr.  Chapman  has 

Thursday,  J  ' 

Aug.         any   unusual   facilities  for  obtaining  cheap  classics  ? 

(?)  1846* 

Such  things  are  to  be  got  handsome  and  second-hand 
in  London — if  one  knew  but  the  way.  I  want  to  com- 
plete Xenophon's  works.  I  have  the  "  Anabasis,"  and 
I  might,  perhaps,  get  a  nice  edition  of  the  "Memora- 
bilia" and  "Cyropasdia"  in  a  cheaper  way  than  by  or- 
dering them  directly  from  our  own  bookseller.  I  have 
been  reading  the  "  Fawn  of  Sertorius."  '  I  think  you 
would  like  it,  though  the  many  would  not.  It  is  pure, 
chaste,  and  classic,  beyond  any  attempt  at  fiction  I 
ever  read.  If  it  be  Bulwer's,  he  has  been  undergoing 
a  gradual  transfiguration,  and  is  now  ready  to  be  ex- 
alted into  the  assembly  of  the  saints.  The  professor's 
(Strauss's)  letter,  transmitted  through  you,  gave  me 
infinite  consolation,  more  especially  the  apt  and  preg- 
nant quotation  from  Berosus.  Precious  those  little 
hidden  lakelets  of  knowledge  in  the  high  mountains, 
far  removed  from  the  vulgar  eye,  only  visited  by  the 
soaring  birds  of  love. 

On  25th  September,  1846,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to 
Miss  Hennell  that  Miss  Evans  "  looks  very  brilliant 
just  now.  We  fancy  she  must  be  writing  her 
novel  -"  and  then  come  the  following  letters, 
written  in  October  and  November : 
All  the  world  is  bathed  in  glory  and  beauty  to  me  now, 
and  thou  sharest  in  the  radiance.  Tell  me  whether  1 
live  for  you  as  you  do  for  me,  and  tell  me  how  gods 
and  men  are  treating  you.  You  must  send  me  a  scrap 
every  month — only  a  scrap  with  a  dozen  words  in  it, 

*  Afterwards  acknowledged  by  the  author,  Robert  Landor 
(brother  of  Walter  Savage  Landor),  who  also  wrote  the  "  Fountain 
of  Arethusa,"  etc. 


1846.]  Wicksteed's  Review.  109 

just  to  prevent  me  from  starving  on  faith  alone — of  Letter  to 

...  .    .  ,.          ,  Miss  Sara 

which  you  know  I  have  the  minimum  of  endowment.  Henneii, 

T  •       •  •  1111  -11-  Oct.  1846. 

I  am  sinning  against  my  daddy  by  yielding  to  the 
strong  impulse  I  felt  to  write  to  you,  for  he  looks  at 
me  as  if  he  wanted  me  to  read  to  him. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  can  get  up   any  steam  Letter  to 

'  Miss  Sara 

again  on  the  subject  of  Quinet;  but  I  will  try — when  Henneii, 
Cara  comes  back,  however,  for  she  has  run  away  with  '846. 
"  Christianity  "  into  Devonshire,  and  I  must  have  the 
book  as  a  springing- board.       When    does  the   Pro- 
spective come  out  ? 

The  review  of  Strauss  contains  some  very  iust  re- fetter  to 

J    J  Miss  Sara 

marks,  though,  on  the   whole,  I  think  it   shallow,  and  Henneii, 

ist  Nov. 

in  many  cases  unfair.  The  praise  it  gives  to  the  l846- 
translation  is  just  what  I  should  have  wished  ;  indeed, 
I  cannot  imagine  anything  more  gratifying  in  the  way 
of  laudation.  Is  it  not  droll  that  Wicksteed  should 
have  chosen  one  of  my  interpolations,  or  rather  para- 
phrases, to  dilate  on.  The  expression  "grajiite," 
applied  to  the  sayings  of  Jesus,  is  nowhere  used  by 
Strauss,  but  is  an  impudent  addition  of  mine  to  eke 
out  his  metaphor.  Did  you  notice  the  review  of  Fos- 
ter's Life  ? '  I  am  reading  the  Life,  and  thinking  all 
the  time  how  you  would  like  it.  It  is  deeply  interest- 
ing to  study  the  life  of  a  genius  under  circumstances 
amid  which  genius  is  so  seldom  to  be  found.  Some  of  . 
the  thoughts  in  his  journal  are  perfect  gems. 

The  words  of  the  reviewer  of  the  Strauss  trans- 
lation in  the  Prospective  are  worth  preserving: 
"A  faithful,  elegant,  and  scholarlike  translation. 
Whoever  reads  these  volumes  without  any  refer- 
ence to  the  German  must  be  pleased  with  the  easy, 

1  John  Foster,  Baptist  minister,  born  1770,  died  1843. 


HO  Wickstced^s  Review.  [FOLESTHLL, 

perspicuous,  idiomatic,  and  harmonious  force  of  the 
English  style.  But  he  will  be  still  more  satisfied 
when,  on  turning  to  the  original,  he  finds  that  the 
rendering  is  word  for  word,  thought  for  thought, 
and  sentence  for  sentence.  In  preparing  so  beauti- 
ful a  rendering  as  the  present,  the  difficulties  can 
have  been  neither  few  nor  small  in  the  way  of  pre- 
serving, in  various  parts  of  the  work,  the  exactness 
of  the  translation,  combined  with  that  uniform 
harmony  and  clearness  of  style  which  imparts  to 
the  volumes  before  us  the  air  and  spirit  of  an 
original.  Though  the  translator  never  obtrudes 
himself  upon  the  reader  with  any  notes  or  com- 
ments of  his  own,  yet  he  is  evidently  a  man  who 
has  a  familiar  knowledge  of  the  whole  subject ; 
and  if  the  work  be  the  joint  production  of  several 
hands,  moving  in  concert,  the  passages  of  a  special- 
ly scholastic  character,  at  least,  have  received  their 
version  from  a  discerning  and  well-informed  theolo- 
gian. Indeed,  Strauss  may  well  say,  as  he  does  in 
the  notice  which  he  writes  for  the  English  edition, 
that,  as  far  as  he  has  examined  it,  the  translation 
is  'et  accurata  et  perspicua.' " 
Letter  to  Many  things,  both  outward  and  inward,  have  concurred 

Miss  Sara  * 

Henneii,    to    make   this   November  far  happier  than    the   last. 

end  of 

NOV.  1846.  One's  thoughts 

"  Are  widened  with  the  process  of  the  suns  ;" 

and  if  one  is  rather  doubtful  whether  one  is  really 
wiser  or  better,  it  is  some  comfort  to  know  that  the 
desire  to  be  so  is  more  pure  and  dominant.  I  have 
been  thinking  of  that  most  beautiful  passage  in  Luke's 
Gospel — the  appearance  of  Jesus  to  the  disciples  at 
Emmaus.  How  universal  in  its  significance !  The 


i847-J         Thoughts  on  Jesus  at  Emmaus.  in 

• 

sou!  that  has  hopelessly  followed  its  Jesus — its  im per-  Letter  to 

'  „   .  Miss  Sara 

sonation  of  the  highest  and  best — all  in  despondency ;  Henneii, 
its  thoughts  all  refuted,  its  dreams  all  dissipated.  Then  Nov.  1846, 
comes  another  Jesus — another,  but  the  same — the 
same  highest  and  best,  only  chastened — crucified  in- 
stead of  triumphant — and  the  soul  learns  that  this  is 
the  true  way  to  conquest  and  glory.  And  then  there 
is  the  burning  of  the  heart,  which  assures  that  "this 
was  the  Lord  !" — that  this  is  the  inspiration  from  above, 
the  true  comforter  that  leads  unto  truth.  But  I  am 
not  become  a  Methodist,  dear  Sara ;  on  the  contrary, 
if  I  am  pious  one  day,  you  may  be  sure  I  was  very 
wicked  the  day  before,  and  shall  be  so  again  the  next. 

I  have  been  at  Griff  for  the  last  week,  or  I  should  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

have  written  before.     I  thank  you  most  heartily  for  Henneii, 

J  *  2oth  Dec. 

sending  me  "Heliados" — first,  because  I  admire  it  1846. 
greatly  in  itself;  and,  secondly,  because  it  is  a  pretty 
proof  that  I  am  not  dissociated  from  your  most  hallowed 
thoughts.  As  yet  I  have  read  it  only  once,  but  I  prom- 
ise myself  to  read  it  again  and  again.  I  shall  not  show 
it  to  any  one,  for  I  hate  "  friendly  criticism,"  as  much 
for  you  as  for  myself;  but  you  have  a  better  spirit 
than  I,  and  when  you  come  I  will  render  "  Heliados  " 
up  to  you,  that  others  may  have  the  pleasure  of  read-. 
ing  it. 

Lying  in   bed  this  morning,  grievously  tormented,  Letter  to 

3      °  ,    *    .  Miss  Sara 

your  "  Heliados     visited  me  and  revealed  itself  to  me  Henneii. 
more  completely  than  it  had  ever  done  before.     How  1847- 
true  that  "  it  is  only  when  all  portions  of  an  individual 
nature,  or  all  members  of  society,  move  forward  har- 
moniously together  that  religious  progress  is  calm  and 
beneficial !"     I  imagine  the  sorrowful  amaze  of  a  child 
who  had  been  dwelling  with  delight  on  the  idea  that 
the   stars  were   the  pavement  of  heaven's  court,  and 


112  Child's  Idea  of  God.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    that  there  above  them  sat  the  kind  but  holy  God,  look- 
Miss  Sara   . 
Henneii,    ing  like  a  venerable  Father  who  would  smile  on  his 

iSth  Feb.  .  .,  i  i    ,      /•  • 

1847-  good  little  ones— when  it  was  cruelly  told,  before  its 
mind  had  substance  enough  to  bear  such  tension, 
that  the  sky  was  not  real,  that  the  stars  were  worlds, 
and  that  even  the  sun  could  not  be  God's  dwelling, 
because  there  were  many,  many  suns.  These  ideas 
would  introduce  atheism  into  the  child's  mind,  instead 
of  assisting  it  to  form  a  nobler  conception  of  God  (of 
course  I  am  supposing  the  bare  information  given,  and 
left  to  the  child  to  work  upon) ;  whereas  the  idea  it 
previously  had  of  God  was  perfectly  adapted  to  its  in- 
tellectual condition,  and  formed  to  the  child  as  perfect 
an  embodiment  of  the  all-good,  all-wise,  and  all-power- 
ful as  the  most  enlightened  philosopher  ever  formed 
to  himself. 

On  2ist  April  Miss  Evans  went  to  London  with 
the  Brays,  and,  among  other  things,  heard  "Eli- 
jah "  at  Exeter  Hall.  On  returning  to  Coventry 
she  writes : 

Letter  to    I  did  so  long  to  see  you  after  hearing  "Elijah,"  just  to 
Henneii,    exchange  an  exclamation  of  delight.     Last  night  I  had 

3oth  April, 

»847-  a  perfect  treat,  too,  in  "  I  Puritani."  Castellar  was  ad- 
mirable as  Elvira,  and  Gardoni  as  a  seraph.  N.B. — I 
liked  the  Babel  less — another  sign  of  age. 

Mention  has  already  been  made  of  Miss  Mary 
Sibree  (now  Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry),  and  as 
the  following  genial  letter  is  addressed  to  her,  it 
gives  an  opportunity  for  mentioning  here  that  Miss 
Evans  had  a  high  regard  for  all  the  members  of 
the  Sibree  family.  At  the  end  of  this  year  (1847) 
and  the  beginning  of  1848  there  will  be  found 
an  interesting  correspondence  with  Miss  Sibree's 
brother,  Mr.  John  Sibree,  who,  in  1849,  published 


I847-]  The  Sibrce  Family.  113 

a  translation  of  Hegel's  "Lectures  on  the  Philos 
ophy  of  History,"  and  in  1880  a  volume  of  poems 
entitled  "Fancy,  and  other  Rhymes."  The  sub- 
joined extract  from  a  communication  from  Mrs. 
Cash  will  show  upon  what  terms  Miss  Evans  was 
with  the  family  : 

"It  was  in  the  early  part  of  the  year  1841  that 
Miss  Franklin  came  to  see  my  mother  at  our  house 
on  the  Foleshill  road — about  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  Coventry — to  tell  her,  as  a  piece  of  most  in- 
teresting news,  that  an  old  pupil,  of  whom  she  her- 
self and  her  sister  Rebecca  had  always  been  very 
proud,  was  coming  at  the  Lady-Day  quarter  to  live 
at  a  house  on  the  same  road — within  five  minutes' 
walk  of  ours.  This  was  Miss  Evans,  then  twenty- 
one  years  of  age.  Miss  Franklin  dwelt  with  much 
pride  on  Miss  Evans's  mental  power,  on  her  skill 
in  music,  etc. ;  but  the  great  recommendation  to 
my  mother's  interest  was  the  zeal  for  others  which 
had  marked  her  earnest  piety  at  school,  where  she 
had  induced  the  girls  to  come  together  for  prayer, 
and  which  had  led  her  to  visit  the  poor  most  dili- 
gently in  the  cottages  round  her  own  home.  Many 
years  after,  an  old  nurse  of  mine  told  me  that 
these  poor  people  had  said,  after  her  removal,  'We 
shall  never  have  another  Mary  Ann  Evans.' 

"  My  mother  was  asked  to  second  and  help  her 
in  work  of  this  kind.  '  She  will  be  sure  to  get 
something  up  very  soon,'  was  the  last  remark  I 
can  recall ;  and  on  her  first  visit  to  us  I  well  re- 
member she  told  us  of  a  club  for  clothing,  set  go- 
ing by  herself  and  her  neighbor  Mrs.  Pears,  in  a 
district  to  which  she  said  '  the  euphonious  name 
of  the  Pudding-Pits  had  been  given.'  It  was  not 


X 14         Mrs.  John  Castis  Recollections  [FOLESHIH 

until  the  winter  of  1841,  or  early  in  1842,  that  my 
mother  first  received  (not  from  Miss  Evans's  own 
lips,  but  through  a  mutual  friend)  the  information 
that  a  total  change  had  taken  place  in  this  gifted 
woman's  mind  with  respectto  the  evangelical  relig- 
ion, which  she  had  evidently  believed  in  up  to  the 
time  of  her  coming  to  Coventry,  and  for  which,  she 
once  told  me,  she  had  at  one  time  sacrificed  the 
cultivation  of  her  intellect,  and  a  proper  regard  to 
personal  appearance.  '  I  used,'  she  said,  '  to  go 
about  like  an  owl,  to  the  great  disgust  of  my 
brother  ;  and  I  would  have  denied  him  what  I  now 
see  to  have  been  quite  lawful  amusements.'  My 
mother's  grief,  on  hearing  of  this  change  in  one 
whom  she  had  begun  to  love,  was  very  great ;  but 
she  thought  argument  and  expostulation  might  do 
much,  and  I  well  remember  a  long  evening  de- 
voted to  it,  but  no  more  of  the  subject-matter  than 
her  indignant  refusal  to  blame  the  Jews  for  not 
seeing  in  a  merely  spiritual  Deliverer  a  fulfilment 
of  promises  of  a  temporal  one ;  and  a  still  more 
emphatic  protest  against  my  father's  assertion  that 
we  had  no  claim  on  God.  To  Miss  Evans's  affec- 
tionate and  pathetic  speech  to  my  mother,  '  Now, 
Mrs.  Sibree,  you  won't  care  to  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  me,'  my  mother  rejoined,  '  On  the  con- 
trary, I  shall  feel  more  interested  in  you  than  ever.' 
But  it  was  very  evident  at  this  time  that  she  stood 
in  no  need  of  sympathizing  friends;  that  the  desire 
for  congenial  society,  as  well  as  for  books  and 
larger  opportunities  for  culture,  which  had  led  her 
most  eagerly  to  seek  a  removal  from  Griff  to  a 
home  near  Coventry,  had  been  met  beyond  her 
highest  expectations.  In  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray,  and 


i 847.]  of  Miss  Evans  at  Coventry.  115 

in  the  Hennell  family,  she  had  found  friends  who 
called  forth  her  interest  and  stimulated  her  powers 
in  no  common  degree.  This  was  traceable  even  in 
externals — in  the  changed  tone  of  voice  and  man- 
ner— from  formality  to  a  geniality  which  opened 
my  heart  to  her,  and  made  the  next  five  years 
the  most  important  epoch  in  my  life.  She  gave 
me  (as  yet  in  my  teens)  weekly  lessons  in  German, 
speaking  freely  on  all  subjects,  but  with  no  attempt 
to  directly  unsettle  my  evangelical  beliefs,  confin- 
ing herself  in  these  matters  to  a  steady  protest 
against  the  claim  of  the  Evangelicals  to  an  exclu- 
sive possession  of  higher  motives  to  morality — or 
even  to  religion.  Speaking  to  my  mother  of  her 
dearest  friend,  Mrs.  Bray,  she  said,  '  She  is  the 
most  religious  person  I  know.'  Of  Mr.  Charles 
Hennell,  in  whose  writings  she  had  great  interest, 
she  said,  '  He  is  a  perfect  model  of  manly  excel- 
lence.' 

"  On  one  occasion,  at  Mr.  Bray's  house  at  Rose- 
hill,  roused  by  a  remark  of  his  on  the  beneficial 
influence  exercised  by  evangelical  beliefs  on  the 
moral  feelings,  she  said  energetically,  '  I  say  it 
now,  and  I  say  it  once  for  all,  that  I  am  influ- 
enced in  my  own  conduct  at  the  present  time  by 
far  higher  considerations,  and  by  a  nobler  idea  of 
duty,  than  I  ever  was  while  I  held  the  evangel- 
ical beliefs.'  When,  at  length,  after  my  brother's 
year's  residence  at  the  Halle  University  (in  1842- 
43),  my  own  mind  having  been  much  exercised  in 
the  matter  of  religion,  I  felt  the  moral  difficulties 
press  heavily  on  my  conscience,  and  my  whole 
heart  was  necessarily  poured  out  to  my  'guide, 
philosopher,  and  friend,'  the  steady  turning  of 


Il6        Mrs.  John  Cash's  Recollections.    [FOLESHILL, 

my  attention  from  theoretical  questions  to  a  con- 
fession of  my  own  want  of  thoroughness  in  arith- 
metic, which  I  pretended  to  teach ;  and  the  re- 
quest that  I  would  specially  give  attention  to  this 
study  and  get  my  conscience  clear  about  it,  and 
that  I  would  not  come  to  her  again  until  my  views 
of  religion  were  also  clear,  is  too  characteristic  of 
Miss  Evans,  as  I  knew  her  during  those  years,  and 
too  much  in  harmony  with  the  moral  teaching  of 
George  Eliot,  to  be  omitted  in  reminiscences  by 
one  to  whom  that  wholesome  advice  proved  a  turn- 
ing-point in  life.  Two  things  more  I  cannot  omit 
to  mention :  one,  the  heightened  sense  given  to 
me  by  her  of  the  duty  of  making  conversation' 
profitable,  and,  in  general,  of  using  time  for  seri- 
ous purposes — of  the  positive  immorality  of  fritter- 
ing it  away  in  ill-natured  or  in  poor,  profitless 
talk ;  another,  the  debt  (so  frequently  acknowl- 
edged by  Miss  Evans  to  me)  which  she  owed,  dur- 
ing the  years  of  her  life  with  her  father,  to  the  in- 
tercourse she  enjoyed  with  her  friends  at  Rosehill. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  and  Miss  Hennell,  with  their 
friends,  were  her  world  ;  and  on  my  saying  to  her 
once,  as  we  closed  the  garden-door  together,  that 
we  seemed  to  be  entering  a  paradise,  she  said,  '  I 
do  indeed  feel  that  I  shut  the  world  out  when  I 
shut  that  door.'  It  is  consoling  to  me  now  to  feel 
that  in  her  terrible  suffering  through  her  father's 
illness  and  death,  which  were  most  trying  to  wit- 
ness, she  had  such  alleviations." 
Letter  to  it  is  worth  while  to  forget  a  friend  for  a  week  or  ten 

Miss  Mary  ° 

sibree,      days,  iust  for  the  sake  of  the  agreeable  kind  of  startle 

ioth  May,         '    '  J 

1847.         it  gives  one  to  be  reminded  that  one  has  such  a  treas- 
ure in  reserve — the  same  sort  of  pleasure,  I  suppose, 


1847.]  Present  of  Purse  from  Miss  Mary  Sibree.  117 

that  a  poor  body  feels  who  happens  to  lay  his  hand  on  Letter  to 

•  i-iii  Miss  Mary 

an  undreamed-of  sixpence  which  had  sunk  to  a  corner  Sibree, 
of  his  pocket.  When  Mr.  Sibree  brought  me  your  par- 1847. 
eel,  I  had  been  to  London  for  a  week;  and  having 
been  full  of  Mendelssohn  oratorios  and  Italian  operas, 
I  had  just  this  kind  of  delightful  surprise  when  I  saw 
your  note  and  the  beautiful  purse.  Not  that  I  mean 
to  compare  you  to  a  sixpence ;  you  are  a  bright, 
golden  sovereign  to  me,  with  edges  all  unrubbed,  fit 
to  remind  a  poor,  tarnished,  bruised  piece,  like  me, 
that  there  are  ever  fresh  and  more  perfect  coinages 
of  human  nature  forthcoming.  I  am  very  proud  of  my 
purse — first,  because  I  have  long  had  to  be  ashamed 
of  drawing  my  old  one  out  of  my  pocket ;  and,  sec- 
ondly, because  it  is  a  sort  of  symbol  of  your  love  for 
me — and  who  is  not  proud  to  be  loved  ?  For  there  is 
a  beautiful  kind  of  pride  at  which  no  one  need  frown 
— I  may  call  it  a  sort  of  impersonal  pride — a  thrill  of 
exultation  at  all  that  is  good  and  lovely  and  joyous  as 
a  possession  of  our  human  nature. 

I  am  glad  to  think  of  all   your   pleasure   among 

friends  new  and  old.     Mrs.  D 's  mother  is,  I  dare 

say,  a  valuable  person  ;  but  do  not,  I  beseech  thee,  go 
to  old  people  as  oracles  on  matters  which  date  any 
later  than  their  thirty-fifth  year.  Only  trust  them,  if 
they  are  good,  in  those  practical  rules  which  are  the 
common  property  of  long  experience.  If  they  are  gov- 
erned by  one  special  idea  which  circumstances  or  their 
own  mental  bias  have  caused  them  to  grasp  with  pe- 
culiar firmness,  and  to  work  up  into  original  forms, 
make  yourself  master  of  their  thoughts  and  convic- 
tions, the  residuum  of  all  that  long  travail  which  poor 
mortals  have  to  encounter  in  their  threescore  years 
and  ten,  but  do  not  trust  their  application  of  their 


Il8  "Elijah"  at  Exeter  Hall.     [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to  gathered  wisdom;  for  however  just  old  people  may  be 
iibree,  in  their  principles  of  judgment,  they  are  often  wrong 
1847.  in  their  application  of  them,  from  an  imperfect  or  un- 
just conception  of  the  matter  to  be  judged.  Love 
and  cherish  and  venerate  the  old ;  but  never  imagine 
that  a  worn-out,  dried-up  organization  can  be  so  rich 
in  inspiration  as  one  which  is  full  fraught  with  life 
and  energy.  I  am  not  talking  like  one  who  is  super- 
latively jealous  for  the  rights  of  the  old ;  yet  such  I 
am,  I  assure  thee.  I  heard  Mendelssohn's  new  ora- 
torio, "  Elijah,"  when  I  was  in  London.  It  has  been 
performed  four  times  in  Exeter  Hall  to  as  large  an 
audience  as  the  building  would  hold  —  Mendelssohn 
himself  the  conductor.  It  is  a  glorious  production, 
and  altogether  I  look  upon  it  as  a  kind  of  sacramen- 
tal purification  of  Exeter  Hall,  and  a  proclamation  of 
indulgence  for  all  that  is  to  be  perpetrated  there  dur- 
ing this  month  of  May.  This  is  a  piece  of  impiety 
which  you  may  expect  from  a  lady  who  has  been 
guanoing  her  mind  with  French  novels.  This  is  the 
impertinent  expression  of  D'Israeli,  who,  writing  him- 
self much  more  detestable  stuff  than  ever  came  from 
a  French  pen,  can  do  nothing  better  to  bamboozle  the 
unfortunates  who  are  seduced  into  reading  his  "  Tan- 
cred  "  than  speak  superciliously  of  all  other  men  and 
things — an  expedient  much  more  successful  in  some 
quarters  than  one  would  expect.  But  au  fond,  dear 
Mary,  I  have  no  impiety  in  my  mind  at  this  moment, 
and  my  soul  heartily  responds  to  your  rejoicing  that 
society  is  attaining  a  more  perfect  idea  and  exhibition 
of  Paul's  exhortation  —  "Let  the  same  mind  be  in 
you  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus."  I  believe  the 
Amen  to  this  will  be  uttered  more  and  more  fer- 
vently, "  Among  all  posterities  for  evermore  " 


1847-]      Re-reading  of  HenneWs  "Inquiry"       1 19 

Ask  me  not  why  I  have  never  written  all  this  weary  Letter  to 
time.     I  can  only  answer,  "  All  things  are  full  of  labor  Henneii, 
—man  cannot  utter  it  "—et  seq.     See  the  first  chapter  i847. 
of  Ecclesiastes  for  my  experience. 

I  have  read  the  "Inquiry"  again  with  more  than  Letter  to 

Miss  Sarr 

interest — with  delight  and  high  admiration.  My  pres-  He£nse11'. 
ent  impression  from  it  far  surpasses  the  one  I  had  l847- 
retained  from  my  two  readings  about  five  years  ago. 
With  the  exception  of  a  few  expressions  which  seem 
too  little  discriminating  in  the  introductory  sketch, 
there  is  nothing  in  its  whole  tone,  from  beginning  to 
end,  that  jars  on  my  moral  sense  ;  and  apart  from  any 
opinion  of  the  book  as  an  explanation  of  the  existence 
of  Christianity  and  the  Christian  documents,  I  am  sure 
that  no  one,  fit  to  read  it  at  all,  could  read  it  without 
being  intellectually  and  morally  stronger — the  reason- 
ing is  so  close,  the  induction  so  clever,  the  style  so 
clear,  vigorous,  and  pointed,  and  the  animus  so  candid 
and  even  generous.  Mr.  Hennell  ought  to  be  one  of 
the  happiest  of  men  that  he  has  done  such  a  life's 
work.  I  am  sure  if  I  had  written  such  a  book  I  should 
be  invulnerable  to  all  the  arrows  of  all  spiteful  gods 
and  goddesses.  I  should  say,  "  None  of  these  things 
move  me,  neither  count  I  my  life  dear  unto  myself," 
seeing  that  I  have  delivered  such  a  message  of  God  to 
men.  The  book  is  full  of  wit,  to  me.  It  gives  me 
that  exquisite  kind  of  laughter  which  comes  from  the 
gratification  of  the  reasoning  faculties.  For  instance  : 
"  If  some  of  those  who  were  actually  at  the  mountain 
doubted  whether  they  saw  Jesus  or  not,  we  may  rea- 
sonably doubt  whether  he  was  to  be  seen  at  all  there : 
especially  as  the  words  attributed  to  him  do  not  seem 
at  all  likely  to  have  been  said,  from  the  disciples  pay- 
ing no  attention  to  them."  "  The  disciples  considered 


I2O  HenncWs  "Inquiry"         [FOLESHILI, 

Letter  to    her  (Mary  Magdalene's)  words  idle  tales,  and  believed 

Henneii,     them  not."     We  have  thus  their  example  for  COnsider- 
ibth  Sept.    .  . 

'847.  mg  her  testimony  alone  as  insufficient,  and  for  seeking 
further  evidence.  To  say  "Jewish  philosopher  "  seems 
almost  like  saying  a  round  square  ;  yet  those  two  words 
appear  to  me  the  truest  description  of  Jesus.  I  think 
the  "Inquiry"  furnishes  the  utmost  that  can  be  done 
towards  obtaining  a  real  view  of  the  life  and  character 
of  Jesus,  by  rejecting  as  little  as  possible  from  the  Gos- 
pels. I  confess  that  I  should  call  many  things  "  shin- 
ing ether,"  to  which  Mr.  Hennell  allows  the  solid  an- 
gularity of  facts  ;  but  I  think  he  has  thoroughly  worked 
out  the  problem — subtract  from  the  New  Testament 
the  miraculous  and  highly  improbable,  and  what  will 
be  the  remainder  ? 

At  the  end  of  September  Miss  Evans  and  her 
father  went  for  a  little  trip  to  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
and    on   their   return  there   is  the   following   let- 
ter: 
Letterto        j  heartily  wish  you  had  been  with  me  to  see  all  the 

Miss  Sara  *  J 

i^'o'':'  beauties  which  have  gladdened  my  soul  and  made  me 
1847.  feej  that  this  earth  is  as  good  a  heaven  as  I  ought  to 
dream  of.  I  have  a  much  greater  respect  for  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  now  I  have  seen  it,  than  when  I  knew  it  only 
by  report — a  compliment  which  one  can  seldom  very 
sincerely  pay  to  things  and  people  that  one  has  heard 
puffed  and  bepraised.  I  do  long  for  you  to  see  Alum 
Bay.  Fancy  a  very  high  precipice,  the  strata  upheaved 
perpendicularly  in  rainbow-like  streaks  of  the  brightest 
maize,  violet,  pink,  blue,  red,  brown,  and  brilliant  white, 
worn  by  the  weather  into  fantastic  fretwork,  the  deep 
blue  sky  above,  and  the  glorious  sea  below.  It  seems 
an  enchanted  land,  where  the  earth  is  of  more  deli- 
cate, refined  materials  than  this  dingy  planet  of  ours 


1847-]  Sir  Charles  Grandison.  121 

is  wrought  out  of.     You  might  fancy  the  strata  formedL^rto 

to  '  Miss  Sara 

of  the  compressed  pollen  of  flowers,  or  powder  from  Henneii, 
bright  insects.    You  can  think  of  nothing  but  Calypsos,  '847. 
or  Prosperos  and  Ariels,  and  such-like  beings. 

I  find  one  very  great  spiritual  good  attendant  on  a 
quiet,  meditative  journey  among  fresh  scenes.  I  seem 
to  have  removed  to  a  distance  from  myself  when  I  am 
away  from  the  petty  circumstances  that  make  up  my 
ordinary  environment.  I  can  take  myself  up  by  the 
ears  and  inspect  myself,  like  any  other  queer  monster 
on  a  small  scale.  I  have  had  many  thoughts,  especial- 
ly on  a  subject  that  I  should  like  to  work  out — "  The 
superiority  of  the  consolations  of  philosophy  to  those 
of  (so-called)  religion."  Do  you  stare  ? 

Thank  you  for  putting  me  on  reading  Sir  Charles 
Grandison.  I  have  read  five  volumes,  and  am  only 
vexed  that  I  have  not  the  two  last  on  my  table  at  this 
moment,  that  I  might  have  them  for  my  convives.  I 
had  no  idea  that  Richardson  was  worth  so  much.  I 
have  had  more  pleasure  from  him  than  from  all  the 
Swedish  novels  together.  The  morality  is  perfect — 
there  is  nothing  for  the  new  lights  to  correct. 

How  do  you  like  "  Lelia,"  of  which  you  have  never  Letter  to 

.  *  f      ,     .        Miss  Sara 

spoken  one  word  ?  I  am  provoked  with  you  for  being  Henneii, 
in  the  least  pleased  with  "Tancred;"  but  if  you  have  1847- 
found  out  any  lofty  meaning  in  it,  or  any  true  picturing 
of  life,  tell  it  me,  and  I  will  recant.  I  have  found  two 
new  readers  of  Strauss.  One,  a  lady  at  Leamington, 
who  is  also  reading  the  "  Inquiry,"  but  likes  Strauss 
better!  The  other  is  a  gentleman  here  in  Coventry; 
he  says  "  it  is  most  clever  and  ingenious,  and  that  no 
one  whose  faith  rests  only  on  the  common  foundation 
can  withstand  it."  I  think  he  may  safely  say  that  his 
faith  rests  on  an  uncommon  foundation.  The  book 
6 


122  Live  and  Teach.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    will  certainly  give  him  a  lift  in  the  right  direction,  from 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    its  critical,  logical  character — just  the  opposite  of  his 

ayth  Nov.  J 

'847-  own.  I  was  interested  the  other  day  in  talking  to  a 
young  lady  who  lives  in  a  nest  of  clergymen,  her  broth- 
ers, but  not  of  the  evangelical  school.  She  had  been 
reading  Blanco  White's  life,  and  seems  to  have  had 
her  spirit  stirred  within  her,  as  every  one's  must  be 
who  reads  the  book  with  any  power  of  appreciation. 
She  is  unable  to  account  to  herself  for  the  results  at 
which  Blanco  White  arrived  with  his  earnestness  and 
love  of  truth  ;  and  she  asked  me  if  I  had  come  to  the 
same  conclusions. 

I  think  "  Live  and  teach  "  should  be  a  proverb  as 
well  as  "Live  and  learn."  We  must  teach  either  for 
good  or  evil ;  and  if  we  use  our  inward  light  as  the 
Quaker  tells  us,  always  taking  care  to  feed  and  trim  it 
well,  our  teaching  must,  in  the  end,  be  for  good.  We 
are  growing  old  together — are  we  not?  I  am  growing 
happier  too.  I  am  amusing  myself  with  thinking  of 
the  prophecy  of  Daniel  as  a  sort  of  allegory.  All  those 
monstrous,  "  rombustical  "  beasts  with  their  horns  — 
the  horn  with  eyes  and  a  mouth  speaking  proud  things, 
and  the  little  horn  that  waxed  rebellious  and  stamped 
on  the  stars,  seem  like  my  passions  and  vain  fancies, 
which  are  to  be  knocked  down  one  after  the  other, 
until  all  is  subdued  into  a  universal  kingdom  over 
which  the  Ancient  of  Days  presides — the  spirit  of  love 
— the  Catholicism  of  the  Universe — if  you  can  attach 
any  meaning  to  such  a  phrase.  It  has  a  meaning  for 
my  sage  noddle. 

Letterto        \  am  reading  George  Sand's  "  Lettres  d'un  Voya- 

Miss  Sara  » 

?enni848.  &eur  "  W^k  great  delight,  and  hoping  that  they  will 
some  time  do  you  as  much  good  as  they  do  me.  In 
the  meantime,  I  think  the  short  letter  about  "Lelia" 


1 848.]  ' '  Tancred. "  123 

will  interest  you.     It  has  a  very  deep  meaning  to  my  Letter  to 

J  J  J  Miss  Sara 

apprehension.      You  can  send  back  the  pases  when  Henneii, 

Jan.  1848. 

you  have  duly  digested  them.  I  once  said  of  you  that 
yours  was  a  sort  of  alkali  nature  which  would  detect 
the  slightest  acid  of  falsehood.  You  began  to  phiz-z-z 
directly  it  approached  you.  I  want  you  as  a  test.  I 
now  begin  to  see  the  necessity  of  the  arrangement  (a 
bad  word)  that  love  should  determine  people's  fate 
while  they  are  young.  It  is  so  impossible  to  admire — 
"  s1  enthousiasmer  "  of — an  individual as  one  gets  older. 
Here  follows  the  interesting  correspondence,  re- 
ferred to  before,  with  Mr.  John  Sibree  : 

Begin  your  letter  by  abusing  me,  according  to  my  ex- Letter  to 
ample.  There  is  nothing  like  a  little  gunpowder  for  beginning 
a  damp  chimney  ;  and  an  explosion  of  that  sort  will  set 
the  fire  of  your  ideas  burning  to  admiration.  I  hate 
bashfulness  and  modesties,  as  Sir  Hugh  Evans  would 
say ;  and  I  warn  you  that  I  shall  make  no  apologies, 
though,  from  my  habit  of  writing  only  to  people  who, 
rather  than  have  nothing  from  me,  will  tolerate  noth- 
ings, I  shall  be  very  apt  to  forget  that  you  are  not  one 
of  those  amiably  silly  individuals.  I  must  write  to 
you  more  meo,  without  taking  pains  or  laboring  to  be 
spirituelle  when  Heaven  never  meant  me  to  be  so ;  and 
it  is  your  own  fault  if  you  bear  with  my  letters  a  mo- 
ment after  they  become  an  infliction.  I  am  glad  you 
detest  Mrs.  Hannah  More's  letters.  I  like  neither  her 
letters,  nor  her  books,  nor  her  character.  She  was 
that  most  disagreeable  of  all  monsters,  a  blue-stock- 
ing—  a  monster  that  can  only  exist  in  a  miserably 
false  state  of  society,  in  which  a  woman  with  but  a 
smattering  of  learning  or  philosophy  is  classed  along 
with  singing  mice  and  card-playing  pigs.  It  is  some 
time  since  I  read  "  Tancred,"  so  that  I  have  no  very 


124  D' Israeli  on  the  Jews.         [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to  vivid  recollection  of  its  details;  but  I  thought  it  very 
beginning  "  thin,"  and  inferior  in  the  working  up  to  "  Coningsby  " 
and  "  Sybil."  Young  Englandism  is  almost  as  remote 
from  my  sympathies  as  Jacobitism,  as  far  as  its  force 
is  concerned,  though  I  love  and  respect  it  as  an  effort 
on  behalf  of  the  people.  D'Israeli  is  unquestionably 
an  able  man,  and  I  always  enjoy  his  tirades  against 
liberal  principles  as  opposed  to  popular  principles — 
the  name  by  which  he  distinguishes  his  own.  As  to 
his  theory  of  races,  it  has  not  a  leg  to  stand  on,  and 
can  only  be  buoyed  up  by  such  windy  eloquence  as — 
You  chubby-faced,  squabby-nosed  Europeans  owe  your 
commerce,  your  arts,  your  religion,  to  the  Hebrews — 
nay,  the  Hebrews  lead  your  armies:  in  proof  of  which 
he  can  tell  us  that  Massena,  a  second-rate  general  of 
Napoleon's,  was  a  Jew,  whose  real  name  was  Manasseh. 
Extermination  up  to  a  certain  point  seems  to  be  the 
law  for  the  inferior  races — for  the  rest  fusion,  both  for 
physical  and  moral  ends.  It  appears  to  me  that  the 
law  by  which  privileged  classes  degenerate,  from  con- 
tinual intermarriage,  must  act  on  a  larger  scale  in  de- 
teriorating whole  races.  The  nations  have  been  al- 
ways kept  apart  until  they  have  sufficiently  developed 
their  idiosyncrasies,  and  then  some  great  revolutionary 
force  has  been  called  into  action,  by  which  the  genius 
of  a  particular  nation  becomes  a  portion  of  the  com- 
mon mind  of  humanity.  Looking  at  the  matter  aesthet- 
ically, our  idea  of  beauty  is  never  formed  on  the  char- 
acteristics of  a  single  race.  I  confess  the  types  of  the 
pure  races,  however  handsome,  always  impress  me  dis- 
agreeably ;  there  is  an  undefined  feeling  that  I  am 
looking  not  at  man,  but  at  a  specimen  of  an  order  un- 
der Cuvier's  class  Bimana.  The  negroes  certainly 
puzzle  me.  All  the  other  races  seem  plainly  destined 


1848.]  Race  Characteristics.  125 

to  extermination,  not  excepting;  even  the  Hebrew  Cau- Letter  to 

J.  Sibree, 

casian.     But  the  negroes  are  too  important,  physio- beginning 

of  1848* 

logically  and  geographically,  for  one  to  think  of  their 
extermination  ;  while  the  repulsion  between  them  and 
the  other  races  seems  too  strong  for  fusion  to  take 
place  to  any  great  extent.  On  one  point  I  heartily 
agree  with  D'Israeli  as  to  the  superiority  of  the  Orient- 
al races — their  clothes  are  beautiful  and  their  manners 
are  agreeable.  Did  you  not  think  the  picture  of  the 
Barroni  family  interesting?  I  should  like  to  know 
who  are  the  originals.  The  fellowship  of  race,  to 
which  D'Israeli  so  exultingly  refers  the  munificence 
of  Sidonia,  is  so  evidently  an  inferior  impulse,  which 
must  ultimately  be  superseded,  that  I  wonder  even  he, 
Jew  as  he  is,  dares  to  boast  of  it.  My  Gentile  nature 
kicks  most  resolutely  against  any  assumption  of  supe- 
riority in  the  Jews,  and  is  almost  ready  to  echo  Vol- 
taire's vituperation.  I  bow  to  the  supremacy  of  He- 
brew poetry,  but  much  of  their  early  mythology,  and 
almost  all  their  history,  is  utterly  revolting.  Their 
stock  has  produced  a  Moses  and  a  Jesus ;  but  Moses 
was  impregnated  with  Egyptian  philosophy,  and  Jesus 
is  venerated  and  adored  by  us  only  for  that  wherein 
he  transcended  or  resisted  Judaism.  The  very  exal- 
tation of  their  idea  of  a  national  deity  into  a  spiritual 
monotheism  seems  to  have  been  borrowed  from  the 
other  Oriental  tribes.  Everything  specifically  Jewish 
is  of  a  low  grade. 

And  do  you  really  think  that  sculpture  and  painting 
are  to  die  out  of  the  world  ?  If  that  be  so,  let  another 
deluge  come  as  quickly  as  possible,  that  a  new  race  of 
Glums  and  Cowries  may  take  possession  of  this  melan- 
choly earth.  I  agree  with  you  as  to  the  inherent  su- 
periority of  music  —  as  that  questionable  woman,  the 


126  Religion  and  Art.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    Countess  Hahn-Hahn,  says  painting  and  sculpture  are 
beginning  but   an    idealizing  of  our   actual   existence.      Music 

of  1848. 

arches  over  this  existence  with  another  and  a  diviner. 
Amen,  too,  to  that  ideenvoll  observation  of  Hegel's. 
"We  hardly  know  what  it  is  to  feel  for  human  misery 
until  we  have  heard  a  shriek ;  and  a  more  perfect  hell 
might  be  made  out  of  sound  than  out  of  any  prepara- 
tion of  fire  and  brimstone."  When  the  tones  of  our 
voice  have  betrayed  peevishness  or  harshness,  \ve 
seem  to  be  doubly  haunted  by  the  ghost  of  our  sin  ;  we 
are  doubly  conscious  that  we  have  been  untrue  to  our 
part  in  the  great  Handel  chorus.  But  I  cannot  assent 
to  the  notion  that  music  is  to  supersede  the  other  arts, 
or  that  the  highest  minds  must  necessarily  aspire  to  a 
sort  of  Milton  blindness,  in  which  the  tiefste  der  Sinne 
is  to  be  a  substitute  for  all  the  rest.  I  cannot  recognize 
the  truth  of  all  that  is  said  about  the  necessity  of  re- 
ligious fervor  to  high  art.  I  am  sceptical  as  to  the 
real  existence  of  such  fervor  in  any  of  the  greatest 
artists.  Artistic  power  seems  to  me  to  resemble  dra- 
matic power — to  be  an  intimate  perception  of  the 
varied  states  of  which  the  human  mind  is  susceptible, 
with  ability  to  give  them  out  anew  in  intensified  ex- 
pression. It  is  true  that  the  older  the  world  gets 
originality  becomes  less  possible.  Great  subjects  are 
used  up,  and  civilization  tends  evermore  to  repress  in- 
dividual  predominance,  highly  wrought  agony,  or  ec- 
static joy.  But  all  the  gentler  emotions  will  be  ever 
new,  ever  wrought  up  into  more  and  more  lovely  com- 
binations, and  genius  will  probably  take  their  direc- 
tion. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  head  of  Christ  taken  from  a 
statue,  by  Thorwaldsen,  of  Christ  scourged  ?  If  not,  I 
think  it  would  almost  satisfy  you.  There  is  another 


1848.]  Sculpture  and  Painting.  127 

work  of  his,  said  to  be  very  sublime,  of  the  Archangel  Letter  to 

J.  Sibree, 

waiting  for  the  command  to  sound  the  last  trumpet,  beginning 

of  1848. 

Yet  Thorwaldsen  came  at  the  fag  end  of  time. 

I  am  afraid  you  despise  landscape  painting ;  but  to 
me  even  the  works  of  our  own  Stanfield,  and  Roberts, 
and  Creswick  bring  a  whole  world  of  thought  and  bliss 
— "a  sense  of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused." 
The  ocean  and  the  sky  and  the  everlasting  hills  are 
spirit  to  me,  and  they  will  never  be  robbed  of  their 
sublimity. 

I  have  tired  myself  with  trying  to  write  cleverly,  in-  ^5'^° 
vita  MinervA,  and  having  in  vain  endeavored  to  refresh  bff8ni£ng 
myself  by  turning  over  Lavater's  queer  sketches  of 
physiognomies,  and  still  queerer  judgments  on  them, 
it  is  a  happy  thought  of  mine  that  I  have  a  virtuous 
reason  for  spending  my  ennui  on  you. 

I  send  you  a  stanza  I  picked  up  the  other  day  in 
George  Sand's  "Lettres  d'un  Voyageur,"  which  is  al- 
most the  ultimatum  of  human  wisdom  on  the  question 
of  human  sorrow. 

"  Le  bonheur  et  le  malheur, 
Nous  viennent  du  meme  auteur, 
Voila  la  ressemblance. 
Le  bonheur  nous  rend  heureux, 
Et  le  malheur  malheureux, 
Voila  la  difference." 

Ah,  here  comes  a  cup  of  coffee  to  console  me  !  When 
I  have  taken  it  I  will  tell  you  what  George  Sand  says: 
"Sais  tu  bien  que  tout  est  dit  devant  Dieu  et  devant 
les  hommes  quand  1'homme  infortund  demande  compte 
de  ses  maux  et  qu'il  obtient  cette  reponse?  Qu'y  a-t-il 
de  plus?  Rien."  But  I  am  not  a  mocking  pen,  and 
if  I  were  talking  to  you  instead  of  writing,  you  would 
detect  some  falsity  in  the  ring  of  my  voice.  Alas ! 


128  Cure  for  Egotism.  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    the  atrabiliar  patient  you  describe  is  first  cousin  to  me 

J.  Sibree,  J 

Beginning  in  my  very  worst  moods,  but  I  have  a  profound  faith 
that  the  serpent's  head  will  be  bruised.  This  con- 
scious kind  of  false  life  that  is  ever  and  anon  endeavor- 
ing to  form  itself  within  us  and  eat  away  our  true  life, 
will  be  overcome  by  continued  accession  of  vitality,  by 
our  perpetual  increase  in  "quantity  of  existence,"  as 
Foster  calls  it.  Creation  is  the  superadded  life  of  the 
intellect;  sympathy,  all-embracing  love,  the  superadded 
moral  life.  These  given  more  and  more  abundantly, 
I  feel  that  all  the  demons,  which  are  but  my  own  ego- 
tism mopping  and  mowing  and  gibbering,  would  vanish 
away,  and  there  would  be  no  place  for  them, 

"For  every  gift  of  noble  origin 
Is  breathed  upon  by  hope's  perpetual  breath." 

Evils,  even  sorrows,  are  they  not  all  negations  ?  Thus 
matter  is  in  a  perpetual  state  of  decomposition;  super- 
add  the  principle  of  life,  and  the  tendency  to  decompo- 
sition is  overcome.  Add  to  this  consciousness,  and 
there  is  a  power  of  self-amelioration.  The  passions 
and  senses  decompose,  so  to  speak.  The  intellect,  by 
its  analytic  power,  restrains  the  fury  with  which  they 
rush  to  their  own  destruction ;  the  moral  nature  puri- 
fies, beautifies,  and  at  length  transmutes  them.  But 
to  whom  am  I  talking  ?  You  know  far  more  sur  ce 
chapitre  than  I. 

Every  one  talks  of  himself  or  herself  to  me,  and  I  beg 
you  will  follow  every  one's  example  in  this  one  thing 
only.  Individuals  are  precious  to  me  in  proportion  as 
they  unfold  to  me  their  intimate  selves.  I  have  just 
had  lent  me  the  journal  of  a  person  who  died  some 
years  ago.  When  1  was  less  venerable  I  should  have 
felt  the  reading  of  such  a  thing  insupportable  ;  now 


1848.]  French  Revolution.  129 

it  interests  me,  though  it  is  the  simplest  record  of  Letter  to 

J.  Sibree, 

events  and  feelings.  beginning 

of  1848. 

Mary  says  she  has  told  you  about  Mr.  Dawson  and 
his  lecture — miserably  crude  and  mystifying  in  some 
parts,  but  with  a  few  fine  passages.  He  is  a  very  de- 
lightful man,  but  not  (at  least  so  say  my  impressions) 
a  great  man.  How  difficult  it  is  to  be  great  in  this 
world,  where  there  is  a  tariff  for  spiritualities  as  well  as 
for  beeves  and  cheese  and  tallow.  It  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible for  a  man  simply  to  give  out  his  true  inspiration 
— the  real,  profound  conviction  which  he  has  won  by 
hard  wrestling,  or  the  few-and-far-between  pearls  of 
imagination  ;  he  must  go  on  talking  or  writing  by  rote, 
or  he  must  starve.  Would  it  not  be  better  to  take 
to  tent-making  with  Paul,  or  to  spectacle-making  with 
Spinoza  ? 

Write  and  tell  you  that  I  join  you  in  your  happiness  Letter  to 
about  the  French   Revolution  ?     Very  fine,  my  good  Feb.  1848. 
friend.     If  I  made  you  wait  for  a  letter  as  long  as  you 
do  me,  our  little  echantillon  of  a  millennium  would  be 
over,  Satan  would  be  let  loose  again,  and  I  should  have 
to  share  your  humiliation  instead  of  your  triumph. 

Nevertheless  I  absolve  you,  for  the  sole  merit  of 
thinking  rightly  (that  is,  of  course,  just  as  I  do)  about  la 
grande  nation  and  its  doings.  You  and  Carlyle  (have 
you  seen  his  article  in  last  week's  Examiner  T)  are 
the  only  two  people  who  feel  just  as  I  would  have 
them — who  can  glory  in  what  is  actually  great  and 
beautiful  without  putting  forth  any  cold  reservations 
and  incredulities  to  save  their  credit  for  wisdom.  I 
am  all  the  more  delighted  with  your  enthusiasm  because 
I  didn't  expect  it.  I  feared  that  you  lacked  revolution- 
ary ardor.  But  no — you  are  just  as  sans-culottish  and 
rash  as  I  would  have  you.  You  are  not  one  of  those 
6* 


130  Sympathy  with  Revolution.      [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to  sages  whose  reason  keeps  so  tight  a  rein  on  their  emo- 
Feb.  1848.  tions  that  they  are  too  constantly  occupied  in  calculat- 
ing consequences  to  rejoice  in  any  great  manifestation 
of  the  forces  that  underlie  our  every-day  existence.  I 
should  have  written  a  soprano  to  your  jubilate  the 
very  next  day,  but  that,  lest  I  should  be  exalted  above 
measure,  a  messenger  of  Satan  was  sent  in  the  form 
of  a  headache,  and  directly  on  the  back  of  that  a  face- 
ache,  so  that  I  have  been  a  mere  victim  of  sensations, 
memories,  and  visions  for  the  last  week.  I  am  even 
now,  as  you  may  imagine,  in  a  very  shattered,  limbo- 
like  mental  condition. 

I  thought  we  had  fallen  on  such  evil  days  that  we 
were  to  see  no  really  great  movement ;  that  ours  was 
what  St.  Simon  calls  a  purely  critical  epoch,  not  at  all 
an  organic  one  ;  but  I  begin  to  be  glad  of  my  date.  I 
would  consent,  however,  to  have  a  year  clipped  off  my 
life  for  the  sake  of  witnessing  such  a  scene  as  that  of  the 
men  of  the  barricades  bowing  to  the  image  of  Christ, 
"  who  first  taught  fraternity  to  men."  One  trembles  to 
look  into  every  fresh  newspaper  lest  there  should  be 
something  to  mar  the  picture  ;  but  hitherto  even  the 
scoffing  newspaper  critics  have  been  compelled  into  a 
tone  of  genuine  respect  for  the  French  people  and  the 
Provisional  Government.  Lamartine  can  act  a  poem 
if  he  cannot  write  one  of  the  very  first  order.  I  hope 
that  beautiful  face  given  to  him  in  the  pictorial  news- 
paper is  really  his;  it  is  worthy  of  an  aureole.  I  am 
chiefly  anxious  about  Albert,  the  operative,  but  his  pict- 
ure is  not  to  be  seen.  I  have  little  patience  with  peo- 
ple who  can  find  time  to  pity  Louis  Philippe  and  his 
moustachioed  sons.  Certainly  our  decayed  monarchs 
should  be  pensioned  off;  we  should  have  a  hospital  for 
them,  or  a  sort  of  zoological  garden,  where  these  worn« 


1848.]   Contrast  between  France  and  England.    131 

out  humbugs  may  be  preserved.  It  is  but  justice  that  Letter  to 
we  should  keep  them,  since  we  have  spoiled  them  for  Feb.  1843. 
any  honest  trade.  Let  them  sit  on  soft  cushions,  and 
have  their  dinner  regularly,  but,  for  Heaven's  sake,  pre- 
serve me  from  sentimentalizing  over  a  pampered  old 
man  when  the  earth  has  its  millions  of  unfed  souls  and 
bodies.  Surely  he  is  not  so  Ahab-like  as  to  wish  that 
the  revolution  had  been  deferred  till  his  son's  days  : 
and  I  think  that  the  shades  of  the  Stuarts  would  have 
some  reason  to  complain  if  the  Bourbons,  who  are  so 
little  better  than  they,  had  been  allowed  to  reign  much 
longer. 

I  should  have  no  hope  of  good  from  any  imitative 
movement  at  home.  Our  working  classes  are  eminent- 
ly inferior  to  the  mass  of  the  French  people.  In 
France  the  mind  of  the  people  is  highly  electrified  ; 
they  are  full  of  ideas  on  social  subjects ;  they  really 
desire  social  reform — not  merely  an  acting  out  of 
Sancho  Panza's  favorite  proverb,  "  Yesterday  for  you, 
to-day  for  me."  The  revolutionary  animus  extended 
over  the  whole  nation,  and  embraced  the  rural  popula- 
tion— not  merely,  as  with  us,  the  artisans  of  the  towns. 
Here  there  is  so  much  larger  a  proportion  of  selfish 
radicalism  and  unsatisfied  brute  sensuality  (in  the  agri- 
cultural and  mining  districts  especially)  than  of  per- 
ception or  desire  of  justice  that  a  revolutionary  move- 
ment would  be  simply  destructive,  not  constructive. 
Besides,  it  would  be  put  down.  Our  military  have  no 
notion  of  "fraternizing."  They  have  the  same  sort  of  in- 
veteracy as  dogs  have  for  the  ill-dressed  canaille.  They 
are  as  mere  a  brute  force  as  a  battering-ram  ;  and  the 
aristocracy  have  got  firm  hold  of  them.  And  there  is 
nothing  in  our  constitution  to  obstruct  the  slow  prog- 
ress of  political  reform.  This  is  all  we  are  fit  for  at 


132  Necessity  of  Utterance.       [FOLESHILL, 

present.  The  social  reform  which  may  prepare  us  for 
great  changes  is  more  and  more  the  object  of  effort 
both  in  Parliament  and  out  of  it.  But  we  English  are 
slow  crawlers.  The  sympathy  in  Ireland  seems  at 
present  only  of  the  water-toast  kind.  The  Glasgow 
riots  are  more  serious ;  but  one  cannot  believe  in  a 
Scotch  Reign  of  Terror  in  these  days.  I  should  not 
be  sorry  to  hear  that  the  Italians  had  risen  en  masse, 
and  chased  the  odious  Austrians  out  of  beautiful  Lorn- 
bardy.  But  this  they  could  hardly  do  without  help, 
and  that  involves  another  European  wnr. 

Concerning  the  "  tent-making,"  there  is  much  more 
to  be  said,  but  am  I  to  adopt  your  rule  and  never  speak 
of  what  I  suppose  we  agree  about  ?  It  is  necessary  to 
me,  not  simply  to  be  but  to  utter,  and  I  require  utter- 
ance of  my  friends.  What  is  it  to  me  that  I  think  the 
same  thoughts  ?  I  think  them  in  a  somewhat  different 
fashion.  No  mind  that  has  any  real  life  is  a  mere  echo 
of  another.  If  the  perfect  unison  comes  occasionally, 
as  in  music,  it  enhances  the  harmonies.  It  is  like  a 
diffusion  or  expansion  of  one's  own  life  to  be  assured 
that  its  vibrations  are  repeated  in  another,  and  words 
are  the  media  of  those  vibrations.  Is  not  the  universe 
itself  a  perpetual  utterance  of  the  one  Being  ?  So  I 
say  again,  utter,  utter,  utter,  and  it  will  be  a  deed  of 
mercy  twice  blessed,  for  I  shall  be  a  safety-valve  for  your 
communicativeness  and  prevent  it  from  splitting  hon- 
est people's  brains  who  don't  understand  you  ;  and, 
moreover,  it  will  be  fraught  with  ghostly  comfort  to  me. 

I  might  make  a  very  plausible  excuse  for  not  ac- 
knowledging your  kind  note  earlier  by  telling  you  that 
I  have  been  both  a  nurse  and  invalid  ;  but,  to  be  thor- 
oughly ingenuous,  I  must  confess  that  all  this  would 
not  have  been  enough  to  prevent  my  writing  but  for 


iS48.]        Sympathy  with  Non-conformity.          133 

my  chronic  disease  of  utter  idleness.    I  have  heard  and  Letter  to 

J  J.  Sibree, 

thought  of  you  with  great  interest,  however.     You  have  Sunday, 

evening, 

my  hearty  and  not  inexperienced   sympathy;   for,  tolatefin 

184$. 

speak  in  the  style  of  Jonathan  Oldbuck,  I  am  haud 
ignara  malL  I  have  gone  through  a  trial  of  the  same 
genus  as  yours,  though  rather  differing  in  species.  I 
sincerely  rejoice  in  the  step  you  have  taken;  it  is  an 
absolutely  necessary  condition  for  any  true  develop- 
ment of  your  nature.  It  was  impossible  to  think  of 
your  career  with  hope,  while  you  tacitly  subscribed  to 
the  miserable  etiquette  (it  deserves  no  better  or  more 
spiritual  name)  of  sectarianism.  Only  persevere  ;  be 
true,  firm,  and  loving;  not  too  anxious  about  immedi- 
ate usefulness  to  others — that  can  'only  be  a  result  of 
justice  to  yourself.  Study  mental  hygiene.  Take  long 
doses  of  dolcefar  niente,  and  be  in  no  great  hurry  about 
anything  in  this  'varsal  world  !  Do  we  not  commit 
ourselves  to  sleep,  and  so  resign  all  care  for  ourselves 
every  night ;  lay  ourselves  gently  on  the  bosom  of  Nat- 
ure or  God  ?  A  beautiful  reproach  to  the  spirit  of 
some  religionists  and  ultra  good  people. 

I  like  the  notion  of  your  going  to  Germany,  as  good 
in  every  way,  for  yourself,  body  and  mind,  and  for  all 
others.  Oh,  the  bliss  of  having  a  very  high  attic  in  a 
romantic  Continental  town,  such  as  Geneva,  far  away 
from  morning  callers,  dinners,  and  decencies,  and 
then  to  pause  for  a  year  and  think  de  omnibus  rebus  et 
quibusdam  aliis,  and  then  to  return  to  life,  and  work 
for  poor  stricken  humanity,  and  never  think  of  self 

again  !  * 

I  am  writing  nearly  in  the  dark,  with  the  post-boy 

waiting.     I  fear  I  shall  not  be  at  home  when  you  come 
'An  Ahnnng—'A.  presentiment — of  her  own  future. 


134  Concerning  Correspondence.     [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    home,  but  surely  I  shall  see  you  before  you  leave  Eng- 
Sunday,  '    land.     However  that  may  be,  I  shall  utter  a  genuine 


. 

Letter  to  ^n  my  v'ew  there  are  but  two  kinds  of  regular  cor- 
Hemifn^  respondence  possible  —  one  of  simple  affection,  which 
i848*.eb  gives  a  picture  of  all  the  details,  painful  and  pleasur- 
able, that  a  loving  heart  pines  after,  and  this  we  carry 
on  through  the  medium  of  Cara  ;  or  one  purely  moral 
and  intellectual,  carried  on  for  the  sake  of  ghostly  edi- 
fication, in  which  each  party  has  to  put  salt  on  the 
tails  of  all  sorts  of  ideas  on  all  sorts  of  subjects,  in 
order  to  send  a  weekly  or  fortnightly  packet,  as  so 
much  duty  and  self-  castigation.  I  have  always  been 
given  to  understand  that  such  Lady-Jane-Grey-like 
works  were  your  abhorrence.  However,  let  me  know 
what  you  would  like  —  what  would  make  you  continue 
to  hold  me  in  loving  remembrance  or  convince  you  that 
you  are  a  bright  evergreen  in  my  garden  of  pleasant 
plants.  Behold  me  ready  to  tear  off  my  iight  hand  or 
pluck  out  my  right  eye  (metaphorically,  of  course  —  I 
speak  to  an  experienced  exegetist,  comme  dirait  noire 
Strauss),  or  write  reams  of  letters  full  of  interesting 
falsehoods  or  very  dull  truths.  We  have  always  con- 
cluded that  our  correspondence  should  be  of  the  third 
possible  kind  —  one  of  impulse,  which  is  necessarily  ir- 
regular as  the  Northern  Lights. 
Letter  to  I  am  a  miserable  wretch,  with  aching  limbs  and 

Miss  Sara  ,.  ...  .....  riii-i 

Henneii,    sinking  spirits,  but  still  alive  enough  to  feel  the  kind- 

i4th  April,  -  _      .  . 

1848.  ness  of  your  last  note.  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  your 
delight  in  Emerson.  I  should  have  liked  to  see  you 
sitting  by  him  "  with  awful  eye,"  for  once  in  your  life 
feeling  all  the  bliss  of  veneration.  I  am  quite  uncer- 
tain about  our  movements.  Dear  father  gets  on  very 
slowly,  if  at  all.  You  will  understand  the  impossibility 


1848.]  Father  III.  135 

of  my  forming  any  plans  for  my  own  pleasure.     Rest 
is  the  only  thing  I  can  think  of  with  pleasure  now. 

Dear  father  is  so  decidedly  progressing  towards  re- Letter  to 

.  J    :  .        Miss  Sara 

covery  that  I  am  full  of  quiet  joy — a  gentle  dawning  Henneii, 
light  after  the  moonlight  of  sorrow.  I  have  found  al-  iS48. 
ready  some  of  the  "  sweet  uses  "  that  belong  only  to 
what  is  called  trouble,  which  is,  after  all,  only  a  deep- 
ened gaze  into  life,  like  the  sight  of  the  darker  blue  and 
the  thickening  host  of  stars  when  the  hazy  effect  of  twi- 
light is  gone — as  our  dear  Blanco  White  said  of  death. 
I  shall  have  less  time  lhan  I  have  had  at  my  own  dis- 
posal, probably  ;  but  I  feel  prepared  to  accept  life,  nay, 
lovingly  to  embrace  it,  in  any  form  in  which  it  shall  pre- 
sent itself. 

Some  time  in  May  Mr.  Evans  and  his  daughter 
went  to  St.  Leonard's,  and  remained  there  till  near 
the  end  of  June.  His  mortal  illness  had  now  taken 
hold  of  him,  and  this  was  a  depressing  time,  both 
for  him  and  for  her,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  follow- 
ing letters  : 
Your  words  of  affection  seem  to  make  this  earthly  at- Letter  to 

.     '  Charles 

mosphere  sit  less  heavily  on  my  shoulders,  and  in  grat-  Bray, 
itude  I  must  send  you  my  thanks  before  I  begin  to 
read  of  Henry  Gow  and  Fair  Catharine  for  father's  de- 
lectation. In  truth,  I  have  found  it  somewhat  difficult 
to  live  for  the  last  week  —  conscious  all  the  time  that 
the  only  additions  to  my  lot  worth  having  must  be 
more  strength  to  love  in  my  own  nature  ;  but  perhaps 
this  very  consciousness  has  an  irritating  rather  than 
a  soothing  effect.  I  have  a  fit  of  sensitiveness  upon 
me,  which,  after  all,  is  but  egotism  and  mental  idleness. 
The  enthusiasm  without  which  one  cannot  even  pour 
out  breakfast  well  (at  least  /cannot)  has  forsaken  me. 
You  may  laugh,  and  wonder  when  my  enthusiasm  has 


1 36  Depression.  [ST.  LEONARDS, 

Charles0    Displayed  itself,  but  that  will  only  prove  that  you  are 
Bray.        no  seer.     I  can  never  live  long  without  it  in  some  form 

May,  1848. 

or  other.  I  possess  my  soul  in  patience  for  a  time,  be- 
lieving that  this  dark,  damp  vault  in  which  I  am  grop- 
ing will  soon  come  to  an  end,  and  the  fresh,  green  earth 
and  the  bright  sky  be  all  the  more  precious  to  me. 
But  for  the  present  my  address  is  Grief  Castle,  on  the 
River  of  Gloom,  in  the  Valley  of  Dolor.  I  was  amused 
to  find  that  Castle  Campbell  in  Scotland  was  called  so. 
Truly  for  many  seasons  in  my  life  I  should  have  been 
an  appropriate  denizen  of  such  a  place ;  but  I  have 
faith  that  unless  I  am  destined  to  insanity,  I  shall  nev- 
er again  abide  long  in  that  same  castle.  I  heartily 
say  Amen  to  your  dictum  about  the  cheerfulness  of 
"large  moral  regions."  Where  thought  and  love  are 
active — thought  the  formative  power,  love  the  vitalizing 
— there  can  be  no  sadness.  They  are  in  themselves  a 
more  intense  and  extended  participation  of  a  divine 
existence.  As  they  grow,  the  highest  species  of  faith 
grows  too,  and  all  things  are  possible.  I  don't  know 
why  I  should  prose  in  this  way  to  you.  But  I  wanted 
to  thank  you  for  your  note,  and  all  this  selfish  grum- 
bling was  at  my  pen's  end.  And  now  I  have  no  time 
to  redeem  myself.  We  shall  not  stay  long  away  from 
home,  I  feel  sure. 
Letter  to  Father  has  done  wonders  in  the  way  of  walking  and 

Charles  J 

Bray,3ist  eating — for  him  —  but  he  makes  not  the  slightest  at- 

May,  1848. 

tempt  to  amuse  himself,  so  that  I  scarcely  feel  easy  in 
following  my  own  bent  even  for  an  hour.  I  have  told 
you  everything  now,  except  that  I  look  amiable  in  spite 
of  a  strong  tendency  to  look  black,  and  speak  gently, 
though  with  a  strong  propensity  to  be  snappish.  Pity 
me,  ye  happier  spirits  that  look  amiable  and  speak 
gently  because  ye  are  amiable  and  gentle. 


1848.]  Louis  Blanc.  137 

Alas  for  the  fate  of  poor  mortals,  which  condemns  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

them  to  wake  up  some  fine  morning  and  find  all  the  Henneii, 

4th  June, 

poetry  in  which  their  world  was  bathed  only  the  even- 1848. 
ing  before  utterly  gone! — the  hard,  angular  world  of 
chairs  and  tables  and  looking-glasses  staring  at  them 
in  all  its  naked  prose !  It  is  so  in  all  the  stages  of 
life  ;  the  poetry  of  girlhood  goes,  the  poetry  of  love  and 
marriage,  the  poetry  of  maternity,  and  at  last  the  very 
poetry  of  duty  forsakes  us  for  a  season,  and  we  see  our- 
selves, and  all  about  us,  as  nothing  more  than  misera- 
ble agglomerations  of  atoms — poor  tentative  efforts  of 
the  Natur  Printip  to  mould  a  personality.  This  is  the 
state  of  prostration,  the  self-abnegation,  through  which 
the  soul  must  go,  and  to  which  perhaps  it  must  again 
and  again  return,  that  its  poetry  or  religion,  which  is 
the  same  thing,  may  be  a  real,  ever-flowing  river,  fresh 
from  the  windows  of  heaven  and  the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep  —  not  an  artificial  basin,  with  grotto-work 
and  gold-fish.  I  feel  a  sort  of  madness  growing  upon 
me,  just  the  opposite  of  the  delirium  which  makes 
people  fancy  that  their  bodies  are  filling  the  room.  It 
seems  to  me  as  if  I  were  shrinking  into  that  mathe- 
matical abstraction,  a  point.  But  I  am  wasting  this 
"good  Sunday  morning"  in  grumblings. 

Poor  Louis  Blanc  !     The  newspapers  make  me  mel-  Letter  to 

Charles 

ancholy  ;  but  shame  upon  me  that  I  say  "  poor."     The  ^^ 
day  will  come  when  there  will  be  a  temple  of  white  '848. 
marble,  where  sweet  incense  and  anthems  shall  rise  to 
the  memory  of  every  man  and  woman  who  has  had  a 
deep  Ahnung — a  presentiment,  a  yearning,  or  a  clear 
vision — of  the  time  when  this  miserable  reign  of  Mam- 
mon shall  end  ;  when  men  shall  be  no  longer  "  like  the 
fishes  of  the  sea,"  society  no  more  like  a  face  one  half 
of  which — the  side  of  profession,  of  lip-faith — is  fair  and 


138  "Jane  Eyre"  [Sr. LEONARDS, 

L«<terta    God-like:  the  other  half— the  side  of  deeds  and  institu- 

Charles 

Bray,  tions — with  a  hard,  old,  wrinkled  skin  puckered  into  the 
1848.  '  sneer  of  a  Mephistopheles.  I  worship  the  man  who 
has  written  as  the  climax  of  his  appeal  against  society, 
"L'inegalite'  des  talents  doit  aboutir  non  a  1'inegalite 
des  retributions  mais  a  I'inegalite'  des  devoirs."  You 
will  wonder  what  has  wrought  me  up  into  this  fury.  It 
is  the  loathsome  fawning,  the  transparent  hypocrisy, 
the  systematic  giving  as  little  as  possible  for  as  much 
as  possible  that  one  meets  with,  here  at  every  turn.  I 
feel  that  society  is  training  men  and  women  for  hell. 
Letter  to  All  creatures  about  to  moult,  or  to  cast  off  an  old 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    skin,  or  enter  on  any  new  metamorphosis,  have  sickly 

23d  June,  ' 

1848.  feelings.  It  was  so  with  me.  But  now  I  am  set  free 
from  the  irritating,  worn-out  integument.  I  am  enter- 
ing on  a  new  period  of  my  life,  which  makes  me  look 
back  on  the  past  as  something  incredibly  poor  and 
contemptible.  I  am  enjoying  repose,  strength,  and 
ardor  in  a  greater  degree  than  I  have  ever  known, 
and  yet  I  never  felt  my  own  insignificance  and  imper- 
fection so  completely.  My  heart  bleeds  for  dear  fa- 
ther's pains,  but  it  is  blessed  to  be  at  hand  to  give  the 
soothing  word  and  act  needed.  I  should  not  have 
written  this  description  of  myself  but  that  I  felt  your 
affectionate  letter  demanded  some  I-ism,  which,  after 
all,  is  often  humility  rather  than  pride.  Paris,  poor 
Paris — alas  !  alas  ! 

Letter  to        I  have  read  "Jane  Eyre,"  and  shall  be  glad  to  know 

Charles  J  J      ' 

Bray,        what  you  admire  in  it.     All  self-sacrifice  is  good,  but 

June,  1848. 

one  would  like  it  to  be  in  a  somewhat  nobler  cause 
than  that  of  a  diabolical  law  which  chains  a  man  soul 
and  body  to  a  putrefying  carcass.  However,  the  book 
is  interesting;  only  I  wish  the  characters  would  talk  a 
little  less  like  the  heroes  and  heroines  of  police  reports. 


1848.]  The  "Romanticist"  139 

About  the  beginning  of  July  Miss  Evans  and 
her  father  returned  ta  Coventry;  and  the  i3th  July 
was  a  memorable  day,  as  Emerson  came  to  visit 
the  Brays,  and  she  went  with  them  to  Stratford. 
All  she  says  herself  about  it  is  in  this  note. 
I  have  seen  Emerson — the  first  man  I  have  ever  seen.  Letter  to 

_  ...  -  .  .  ,  ..  Miss  Sara 

But  you  have  seen  still  more  of  him,  so  I  need  not  tell  Henneii, 
you  what  he  is.  I  shall  leave  Cara  to  tell  how  the  day  jiiyfis^s. 
— the  Emerson  day — was  spent,  for  I  have  a  swimming 
head  from  hanging  over  the  desk  to  write  business  let- 
ters for  father.  Have  you  seen  the  review  of  Strauss's 
pamphlet  in  the  Edinburgh?  The  title  is  "Der  Ro- 
mantiker  auf  clem  Throne  der  Casaren,  oder  Julian 
cler  Abtriinnige  " — a  sort  of  erudite  satire  on  the  King 
of  Prussia ;  but  the  reviewer  pronounces  it  to  have  a 
permanent  value  quite  apart  from  this  fugitive  interest. 
The  "  Romantiker,"  or  Romanticist,  is  one  who,  in  lit- 
erature, in  the  arts,  in  religion  or  politics,  endeavors 
to  revive  the  dead  past.  Julian  was  a  romanticist  in 
wishing  to  restore  the  Greek  religion  and  its  spirit, 
when  mankind  had  entered  on  the  new  development. 
But  you  have  very  likely  seen  the  review.  I  must  copy 
one  passage,  translated  from  the  conclusion  of  Strauss's 
pamphlet,  lest  you  should  not  have  met  with  it. 
"  Christian  writers  have  disfigured  the  death-scene  of 
Julian.  They  have  represented  him  as  furious,  blas- 
pheming, despairing,  and  in  his  despair  exclaiming, 
Thou  hast  conquered,  O  Galilean  ! — '  w/uijcae  FaXtAcue.' 
This  phrase,  though  false  as  history,  has  a  truth  in  it. 
It  contains  a  prophecy — to  us  a  consoling  prophecy — 
and  it  is  this  :  Every  Julian — /.  e.,  every  great  and  pow- 
erful man — who  would  attempt  to  resuscitate  a  state  of 
society  which  has  died,  will  infallibly  be  vanquished  by 
the  Galilean — for  the  Galilean  is  nothing  less  than  the 
genius  of  the  future !" 


140  Carlylc  on  Emerson,  [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to        Father's  tongue  has  just  given  utterance  to  a  thought 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    which  has  been  very  visibly  radiating  from  his  eager 

Dec.  .848.  .       * 

eyes  for  some  minutes.  I  thought  you  were  going 
on  with  the  book."  I  can  only  bless  you  for  those 
two  notes,  which  have  emanated  from  you  like  so  much 
ambrosial  scent  from  roses  and  lavender.  Not  less 
am  I  grateful  for  the  Carlyle  eulogium.1  I  have  shed 
some  quite  delicious  tears  over  it.  This  is  a  world 
worth  abiding  in  while  one  man  can  thus  venerate  and 
love  another.  More  anon — this  from  my  doleful  pris- 
on of  stupidity  and  barrenness,  with  a  yawning  trap- 
door ready  to  let  me  down  into  utter  fatuity.  But  I 
can  even  yet  feel  the  omnipotence  of  a  glorious  chord. 
Poor  pebble  as  I  am,  left  entangled  among  slimy 
weeds,  I  can  yet  hear  from  afar  the  rushing  of  the 
blessed  torrent,  and  rejoice  that  it  is  there  to  bathe  and 
brighten  other  pebbles  less  unworthy  of  the  polishing. 
Letter  to  Thank  you  for  a  sight  of  our  blessed  St.  Francis's3 

Miss  Sara  J 

Henneiu    letter.     There  is  no  imaginable  moment  in  which  the 

end  ot 

>848.  thought  of  such  a  being  could  be  an  intrusion.  His 
soul  is  a  blessed  yea.  There  is  a  sort  of  blasphemy  in 
that  proverbial  phrase,  "  Too  good  to  be  true."  The 
highest  inspiration  of  the  purest,  noblest  human  soul, 
is  the  nearest  expression  of  the  truth.  Those  extinct 
volcanoes  of  one's  spiritual  life  —  those  eruptions  of 
the  intellect  and  the  passions  which  have  scattered 
the  lava  of  doubt  and  negation  over  our  early  faith — 
are  only  a  glorious  Himalayan  chain,  beneath  which 
new  valleys  of  undreamed  richness  and  beauty  will 
spread  themselves.  Shall  we  poor  earthworms  have 
sublimer  thoughts  than  the  universe,  of  which  we  are 
poor  chips — mere  effluvia  of  mind — shall  we  have  sub- 

1  On  Emerson.  2  Francis  Newman. 


1 849.]         Contrition  for  Evil  Speaking.  141 

limer  thoughts  than  that  universe  can  furnish  out  into  Letter  to 

_.  . .    .  Miss  Sara 

reality?     I  am  living  unspeakable  moments,  and  can  Henndi, 

end  of 

write  no  more.  1848. 

I  think  of  you  perpetually,  but  my  thoughts  are  all  fetter  to 

*  *  *  Miss  Sara 

aqueous;  they  will  not  crystallize — they  are  as  fleet  Henneii, 
ing  as  ripples  on  the  sea.     I  am  suffering  perhaps  as 
acutely  as  ever  I  did  in  my  life.     Breathe  a  wish  that 
I  may  gather  strength — the  fragrance  of  your  wish  will 
reach  me  somehow. 

The  next  letter  is  to  Mrs.  Houghton,  who,  it  will 
be  remembered,  was  the  only  daughter  by  Mr.  Ev- 
ans's first  marriage.  Miss  Evans  had  more  intel- 
lectual sympathy  with  this  half-sister  Fanny  than 
with  any  of  the  other  members  of  her  family,  and 
it  is  a  pity  that  more  of  the  letters  to  her  have  not 
been  preserved. 
I  have  been  holding  a  court  of  conscience,  and  I  can-  Letter 

to  Mrs. 

not  enjoy  my  Sunday  s  music  without  restoring  har-  Houghton 
mony,  without  entering  a  protest  against  that  super- evening, 

18*49* 

ficial  soul  of  mine  which  is  perpetually  contradicting 
and  belying  the  true  inner  soul.  I  am  in  that  mood 
which,  in  another  age  of  the  world,  would  have  led  me 
to  put  on  sackcloth  and  pour  ashes  on  my  head,  when 
I  call  to  mind  the  sins  of  my  tongue — my  animadver- 
sions on  the  faults  of  others,  as  if  I  thought  myself  to 
be  something  when  I  am  nothing.  When  shall  I  at- 
tain to  the  true  spirit  of  love  which  Paul  has  taught 
for  all  the  ages?  I  want  no  one  to  excuse  me,  clear 
Fanny ;  I  only  want  to  remove  the  shadow  of  my  mis- 
erable words  and  deeds  from  before  the  divine  image 
of  truth  and  goodness,  which  I  would  have  all  beings 
worship.  I  need  the  Jesuits'  discipline  of  silence,  and 
though  my  "evil  speaking"  issues  from  the  intellectual 
point  of  view  rather  than  the  moral — though  there  may 


142  Reading  MacauCay.  [FOLESHIU, 

Letter       be  gall  in  the  thought  while  there  is  honey  in  the  feel- 
to  Mrs.        .  ..... 

Houghton,  ing,  yet  the  evil  speaking  is  wrong.     We  may  satirize 

Sunday 

evening,  character  and  qualities  in  the  abstract  without  injury 
to  our  moral  nature,  but  persons  hardly  ever.  Poor 
hints  and  sketches  of  souls  as  we  are — with  some 
slight,  transient  vision  of  the  perfect  and  the  true  — 
we  had  need  help  each  other  to  gaze  at  the  blessed 
heavens  instead  of  peering  into  each  other's  eyes  to 
find  out  the  motes  there. 

Letter  to        I  have  not  touched  the  piano  for  nearly  two  months 

Miss  Sara  r  7 

Henneii,  until  this  morning,  when,  father  being  better,  I  was  de- 
morning,  termined  to  play  a  mass  before  the  piano  is  utterly  out 
1849.  of  tune  again.  Write,  asking  for  nothing  again,  like  a 
true  disciple  of  Jesus.  I  am  still  feeling  rather  shat- 
tered in  brain  and  limbs ;  but  do  not  suppose  that  I 
lack  inward  peace  and  strength.  My  body  is  the  de- 
faulter— consciously  so.  I  triumph  over  all  things  in 
the  spirit,  but  the  flesh  is  weak,  and  disgraces  itself 
by  headaches  and  backaches.  I  am  delighted  to  find 
that  you  mention  Macaulay,  because  that  is  an  indi- 
cation that  Mr.  Hennell  has  been  reading  him.  I 
thought  of  Mr.  H.  all  through  the  book,  as  the  only 
person  I  could  be  quite  sure  would  enjoy  it  as 
much  as  I  did  myself.  I  did  not  know  if  it  would 
interest  you :  tell  me  more  explicitly  that  it  does. 
Think  of  Babylon  being  unearthed  in  spite  of  the 
prophecies?  Truly  we  are  looking  before  and  after, 
"  au  jour  d'aujourd'hui,"  as  Monsieur  Bricolin  says. 
Send  me  the  criticism  of  Jacques  the  morn's  morning 
— only  beware  there  are  not  too  many  blasphemies 
against  my  divinity. 

Paint  soap-bubbles — and  never  fear  but  I  will  find 
a  meaning,  though  very  likely  not  your  meaning. 
Paint  the  Crucifixion  in  a  bubble — after  Turner — and 
then  the  Resurrection  :  I  see  them  now. 


1849.]  Bodily  Suffering.  143 

There  has  been  a  vulgar  man  sitting  by  while    I  Letter  to 

/  Miss  Sara 

have   been  writing,  and   I  have  been   saying  paren-  Henneii, 
thetical  bits  of  civility  to  him  to  help  out  poor  father  morning, 

4th  Feb. 

in   his  conversation,   so   I   have  not  been  quite  sure  '849- 
what  I  have  been  saying  to  you.     I  have  woful  aches 
which  take  up  half  my  nervous  strength. 

My  life  is  a  perpetual  nightmare,  and  always  haunt- Letter  to 

•  M'ss  Sar 

ed  by  something  to  be  done,  which  I  have  never  the  Henneii, 
time,  or,  rather,  the  energy,  to  do.  Opportunity  is  1849. 
kind,  but  only  to  the  industrious,  and  I,  alas !  am  not 
one  of  them.  I  have  sat  down  in  desperation  this 
evening,  though  dear  father  is  very  uneasy,  and  his 
moans  distract  me,  just  to  tell  you  that  you  have  full 
absolution  for  your  criticism,  which  I  do  not  reckon 
of  the  impertinent  order.  I  wish  you  thoroughly  to 
understand  -that  the  writers  who  have  most  profoundly 
influenced  me — who  have  rolled  away  the  waters  from 
their  bed,  raised  new  mountains  and  spread  delicious 
valleys  for  me — are  not  in  the  least  oracles  to  me.  It 
is  just  possible  that  I  may  not  embrace  one  of  their 
opinions ;  that  I  may  wish  my  life  to  be  shaped  quite 
differently  from  theirs.  For  instance,  it  would  signify 
nothing  to  me  if  a  very  wise  person  were  to  stun  me 
with  proofs  that  Rousseau's  views  of  life,  religion,  and 
government  are  miserably  erroneous — that  he  was  guil- 
ty of  some  of  the  worst  ^assesses  that  have  degraded 
civilized  man.  I  might  admit  all  this :  and  it  would 
be  not  the  less  true  that  Rousseau's  genius  has  sent 
that  electric  thrill  through  my  intellectual  and  moral 
frame  which  has  awakened  me  to  new  perceptions ; 
which  has  made  man  and  nature  a  fresh  world  of 
thought  and  feeling  to  me  ;  and  this  not  by  teach- 
ing me  any  new  belief.  It  is  simply  that  the  rushing 
mighty  wind  of  his  inspiration  has  so  quickened  my 


144  Influence  of  George  Sand.      [FOLESHILL, 

Letter  to    faculties  that  I   have  been  able  to  shape  more  defi- 

Henneii,    nitely  for  myself  ideas  which  had  previously  dwelt  as 

?&»9.e       dim  Ahnungen  in  my  soul;  the  fire  of  his  genius  has 

so  fused  together  old  thoughts  and  prejudices  that  I 

have  been  ready  to  make  new  combinations. 

It  is  thus  with  George  Sand.  I  should  never  dream 
of  going  to  her  writings  as  a  moral  code  or  text-book. 
I  don't  care  whether  I  agree  with  her  about  marriage 
or  not — whether  I  think  the  design  of  her  plot  correct, 
or  that  she  had  no  precise  design  at  all,  but  began  to 
write  as  the  spirit  moved  her,  and  trusted  to  Provi- 
dence for  the  catastrophe,  which  I  think  the  more 
probable  case.  It  is  sufficient  for  me,  as  a  reason  for 
bowing  before  her  in  eternal  gratitude  to  that  "great 
power  of  God  manifested  in  her,"  that  I  cannot  read 
six  pages  of  hers  without  feeling  that  it  is  given  to  her 
to  delineate  human  passion  and  its  results,  and  (I  must 
say,  in  spite  of  your  judgment)  some  of  the  moral  in- 
stincts and  their  tendencies,  with  such  truthfulness, 
such  nicety  of  discrimination,  such  tragic  power,  and, 
withal,  such  loving,  gentle  humor,  that  one  might  live 
a  century  with  nothing  but  one's  own  dull  faculties, 
and  not  know  so  much  as  those  six  pages  will  suggest. 
The  psychological  anatomy  of  Jacques  and  Fernande 
in  the  early  days  of  their  marriage  seems  quite  preter- 
naturally  true — I  mean  that  her  power  of  describing  it 
is  preternatural.  Fernande  and  Jacques  are  merely 
the  feminine  and  the  masculine  nature,  and  their  early 
married  life  an  every-day  tragedy;  but  I  will  not  dilate 
on  the  book  or  on  your  criticism,  for  I  am  so  sleepy 
that  I  should  write  nothing  but  betises.  I  have  at  last 
the  most  delightful  "De  imitatione  Christi,"  with  quaint 
woodcuts.  One  breathes  a  cool  air  as  of  cloisters  in 
the  book — it  makes  one  long  to  be  a  saint  for  a  few 


i849-1       Reviews  the  "Nemesis  of  Faith"          145 

months.     Verily  its  piety  has  its  foundations  in  the 

depth  of  the  divine-human  soul. 

In  March  Miss  Evans  wrote  a  short  notice  of  the 
"  Nemesis  of  Faith  "  for  the  Coventry  Herald,  in 
which  she  says : 

"We  are  sure  that  its  author  is  a  bright,  particular 

star,  though  he  sometimes  leaves  us  in  doubt  whether 

he  be  not  a  fallen  '  son  of  the  morning.'  " 

The  paper  was  sent  to  Mr.  Froude,  and  on  23d 
March  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hennell:  "Last 
night  at  dusk  M.  A.  came  running  in  in  high  glee 
with  a  most  charming  note  from  Froude,  naively 
and  prettily  requesting  her  to  reveal  herself.  He 
says  he  recognized  her  hand  in  the  review  in  the 
Coventry  Herald,  and  if  she  thinks  him  a  fallen 
star  she  might  help  him  to  rise,  but  he  'believes 
he  has  only  been  dipped  in  the  Styx,  and  is  not 
much  the  worse  for  the  bath.'  Poor  girl,  I  am  so 
pleased  she  should  have  this  little  episode  in  her 
dull  life." 

The  next  letter  again  refers  to  Mr.  Froude's 
books. 

Tell  me  not  that  I  am  a  mere  prater  —  that  feel  ing  Letter  to 

never  talks.     I  will   talk,  and  caress,  and  look  lov-  Hennell, 

Wednes- 

ingly,  until  death  makes  me  as  stony  as  the  Gorgon -day,  April. 

1840* 

like  heads  of  all  the  judicious  people  I  know.  What 
is  anything  worth  until  it  is  uttered  ?  Is  not  the  uni- 
verse one  great  utterance  ?  Utterance  there  must  be 
in  word  or  deed  to  make  life  of  any  worth.  Every  true 
pentecost  is  a  gift  of  utterance.  Life  is  too  short  and 
opportunities  too  meagre  for  many  deeds — besides,  the 
best  friendships  are  precisely  those  where  there  is  no 
possibility  of  material  helpfulness — and  I  would  take 
no  deeds  as  an  adequate  compensation  for  the  frigid, 
7 


146   Fronde  s  "Shadows  of  the  Clouds."  [FOLESHILL, 

Letterto    glassy  eye  and  hard,  indifferent  tones  of  one's  very 
H  enndi,    solid  and  sensible  and  conscientious  friend.    You  will 

Wednes- 
day, April,  wonder  of  what  this  is  a  propos — only  of  a  little  bit- 
1849. 

terness  in  my  own  soul  just  at  this  moment,  and  not 

of  anything  between  you  and  me.  I  have  nothing  to 
tell  you,  for  all  the  "  haps  "  of  my  life  are  so  indiffer- 
ent. I  spin  my  existence  so  entirely  out  of  myself 
that  there  is  a  sad  want  of  proper  names  in  my  con- 
versation, and  I  am  becoming  a  greater  bore  than 
ever.  It  is  a  consciousness  of  this  that  has  kept  me 
from  writing  to  you.  My  letters  would  be  a  sort  of 
hermit's  diary.  I  have  so  liked  the  thought  of  your 
enjoying  the  "Nemesis  of  Faith."  I  quote  Keats's 
sonnet,  &  propos  of  that  book.  It  has  made  me  feel — 

"  Like  some  watcher  of  the  skies 
When  a  new  planet  swims  into  his  ken ; 
Or  like  stout  Cortez — when  with  eagle  eyes 
He  stared  at  the  Pacific,  and  all  his  men 
Look'd  at  each  other  with  a  wild  surmise — 
Silent,  upon  a  peak  in  Darien." 

You  must  read  "The  Shadows  of  the  Clouds."  It 
produces  a  sort  of  palpitation  that  one  hardly  knows 
whether  to  call  wretched  or  delightful.  I  cannot  take  up 
the  book  again,  though  wanting  very  much  to  read  it 
more  closely.  Poor  and  shallow  as  one's  own  soul  is, 
it  is  blessed  to  think  that  a  sort  of  transubstantiation 
is  possible  by  which  the  greater  ones  can  live  in  us. 
Egotism  apart,  another's  greatness,  beauty,  or  bliss  is 
one's  own.  And  let  us  sing  a  Magnificat  when  we  are 
conscious  that  this  power  of  expansion  and  sympathy 
is  growing,  just  in  proportion  as  the  individual  satisfac- 
tions are  lessening.  Miserable  dust  of  the  earth  we 
are,  but  it  is  worth  while  to  be  so,  for  the  sake  of  the 
living  soul — the  breath  of  God  within  us.  You  see  I 


1  849.]        "Tract  at  us  Theologico-Politicus"          147 
can  do  nothing  but  scribble  my  own  prosy  stuff  —  such 

J  tr        1 

chopped  straw  as  my  soul  is  foddered  on.     I  am  trans- 

rr  J 


Wednes- 

lating  the  "  Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus  "  of  Spinoza,  day,  AprU, 
and  seem  to  want  the  only  friend  that  knows  how  to 
praise  or  blame.  How  exquisite  is  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  another  mind  than  your  own  sees  precisely 
where  and  what  is  the  difficulty  —  and  can  exactly  ap- 
preciate the  success  with  which  it  is  overcome.  One 
knows  —  sed  longo  intervallo  —  the  full  meaning  of  the 
"fit  audience  though  few."  How  an  artist  must  hate 
the  noodles  that  stare  at  his  picture,  with  a  vague  no- 
tion that  it  is  a  clever  thing  to  be  able  to  paint. 

I  know  it  will  gladden  your  heart  to  hear  that  father  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Pears, 

spoke  of  you  the  other  day  with  affection  and  gratitude.  i°thMay, 
He  remembers  you  as  one  who  helped  to  strengthen 
that  beautiful  spirit  of  resignation  which  has  never  left 
him  through  his  long  trial.  His  mind  is  as  clear  and 
rational  as  ever,  notwithstanding  his  feebleness,  and  he 
gives  me  a  thousand  little  proofs  that  he  understands 
my  affection  and  responds  to  it.  These  are  very  pre- 
cious moments  to  me  ;  my  chair  by  father's  bedside  is 
a  very  blessed  seat  to  me.  My  delight  in  the  idea 
that  you  are  being  benefited  after  all,  prevents  me  from 
regretting  you,  though  you  are  just  the  friend  that  would 
complete  my  comfort.  Every  addition  to  your  power 
of  enjoying  life  is  an  expansion  of  mine.  I  partake  of 
your  ebb  and  flow.  I  am  going  to  my  post  now.  I 
have  just  snatched  an  interval  to  let  you  know  that, 
though  you  have  taken  away  a  part  of  yourself  from 
me,  neither  you  nor  any  one  else  can  take  the  whole. 

It  will  have  been  seen  from  these  late  letters, 
that  the  last  few  months  of  her  father's  illness  had 
been  a  terrible  strain  on  his  daughter's  health  and 
spirits.  She  did  all  the  nursing  herself,  and  Mrs. 


148  Father  s  Death.  [FOLESHILL, 

Congreve  (who  was  then  Miss  Bury,  daughter  of  the 
doctor  who  was  attending  Mr.  Evans — and  who, 
it  will  be  seen,  subsequently  became  perhaps  the 
most  intimate  and  the  closest  of  George  Eliot's 
friends)  tells  me  that  her  father  told  her  at  the 
time  that  he  never  saw  a  patient  more  admirably 
and  thoroughly  cared  for.  The  translating  was  a 
great  relief  when  she  could  get  to  it.  Under  date 
of  igth  April,  1849,  Mrs.  Bray  writes  to  Miss  Hen- 
nell,  "  M.  A.  is  happy  now  with  this  Spinoza  to  do  : 
she  says  it  is  such  a  rest  for  her  mind." 

The  next  letter  to  Rosehill  pathetically  describes 
how  the  end  came  at  last  to  Mr.  Evans's  suffer- 
ings: 
Letter  to    Dear  friends,  Mr.  Bury  told  us  last  night  that  he  thought 

the  Brays,  * 

half-past    father  would  not  last  till  morning.     I  sat  by  him  with 

nine,  c  J 

Wednes-    my  hand  in  his  till  four  o'clock,  and  he  then  became 

day  morn- 
ing, 3ist     quieter  and  has  had  some  comfortable  sleep.     He  is 

May,  1845,  ^ 

obviously  weaker  this  morning,  and  has  been  for  the 
last  two  or  three  days  so  painfully  reduced  that  I 
dread  to  think  what  his  dear  frame  may  become  before 
life  gives  way.  My  brother  slept  here  last  night,  and 
will  be  here  again  to-night.  What  shall  I  be  without 
my  father?  It  will  seem  as  if  a  part  of  my  moral  nat- 
ure were  gone.  I  write  when  I  can,  but  I  do  not  know 
whether  my  letter  will  do  to  send  this  evening. 

P.  S. — Father  is  very,  very  much  weaker  this  even- 
ing. 

Mr.  Evans  died  during  that  night,  3ist  May,  1849. 


SUMMARY. 

MAY,  1846,  TO  MAY,  1849. 

Visit  to  Mrs.  Hennell  at  Hackney  —  Letters  to  Mrs.  Bray  — 
Strauss  translation  published — Visit  to  Dover  with  father — Clas- 


MR.  ROBERT   EVANS,  FATHER  OF  GEORGE  EUOT. 
From  a  Miniature  in  the  potteuion  of  Mr.  Crou. 


1849-]  Summary  of  Chapter  III.  149 

sical  books  wanted — Pleasure  in  Strauss's  letter — Brays  suspect 
novel-writing — Letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell — Good  spirits — 
Wicksteed's  review  of  the  Strauss  translation — Reading  Foster's  life 
— Visit  to  Griff— Child's  view  of  God  (<J  propos  of  Miss  Hennell's 
"Heliados") — Visit  to  London — "Elijah" — Likes  London  less 
— The  Sibree  family  and  Mrs.  John  Cash's  reminiscences — Let- 
ter to  Miss  Mary  Sibree — Letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell — Mental 
depression — Opinion  of  Charles  Hennell's  "Inquiry"- — Visit  to 
the  Isle  of  Wight  with  father — Admiration  of  Richardson — Blanco 
White — Delight  in  George  Sand's  "Lettres  d'un  Voyageur" — 
Letters  to  Mr.  John  Sibree — Opinion  of  Mrs.  Hannah  More's  let- 
ters— "  Tancred,"  "  Coningsby,"  and  "  Sybil " — D'Israeli's  theory 
of  races — Gentile  nature  kicks  against  superiority  of  Jews — Bows 
only  to  the  supremacy  of  Hebrew  poetry — Superiority  of  music 
among  the  arts — Relation  of  religion  to  art — Thorwaldsen's  Christ 
— Admiration  of  Roberts  and  Creswick — The  intellect  and  moral 
nature  restrain  the  passions  and  senses — Mr.  Dawson  the  lecturer 
• — Satisfaction  in  French  Revolution  of  '48 — The  men  of  the  bar- 
ricade bowing  to  the  image  of  Christ — Difference  between  French 
and  English  working-classes — The  need  of  utterance — Sympathy 
with  Mr.  Sibree  in  religious  difficulties — Longing  for  a  high  attic 
in  Geneva — Letters  to  Miss  Sara  Hennell — Views  on  correspond- 
ence— Mental  depression — Father's  illness — Father  better — Goes 
with  him  to  St.  Leonard's — Letter  to  Charles  Bray — Depression 
to  be  overcome  by  thought  and  love — Admiration  of  Louis  Blanc 
— Recovery  from  depression — "Jane  Eyre" — Return  to  Coven- 
try— Meets  Emerson — Strauss's  pamphlet  on  Julian  the  Apostate 
— Carlyle's  eulogium  on  Emerson — Francis  Newman — Suffering 
from  depression — Letter  to  Mrs.  Houghton — Self-condemnation 
for  evil  speaking — Letters  to  Miss  Hennell — Macaulay's  History 
— On  the  influence  of  George  Sand's  and  Rousseau's  writing — 
Writes  review  of  the  "Nemesis  of  Faith"  for  the  Coventry 
Herald — Opinion  of  the  "Nemesis"  and  the  "Shadows  of  the 
Clouds" — Translating  Spinoza's  "Tractatus  Theologico-Politi- 
cus  " — Letter  to  Mrs.  Pears — The  consolations  of  nursing — Strain 
of  father's  illness — Father's  death. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IT  fortunately  happened  that  the  Brays  had  plan- 
ned a  trip  to  the  Continent  for  this  month  of  June. 
1849,  and  Miss  Evans,  being  left  desolate  by  the 
death  of  her  father,  accepted  their  invitation  to  join 
them.  On  the  nth  June  they  started,  going  by 
way  of  Paris,  Lyons,  Avignon,  Marseilles,  Nice, 
Genoa,  Milan,  Como,  Lago  Maggiore,  Martigny, 
and  Chamounix,  arriving  at  Geneva  in  the  third 
week  of  July.  Here  Miss  Evans  determined  to  re- 
main for  some  months,  the  Brays  returning  home. 
Before  they  went,  however,  they  helped  her  to  set- 
tle herself  comfortably  en  pension,  and,  as  will  be 
seen  from  the  following  letters,  the  next  eight 
months  were  quietly  and  peacefully  happy.  The 
pension  selected  in  the  first  instance  was  the  Cam- 
pagne  Plongeon,  which  stands  on  a  slight  emi- 
nence a  few  hundred  yards  back  from  the  road 
on  the  route  d'Hermance,  some  ten  minutes'  walk 
from  the  Hotel  Me'tropole.  From  the  Hotel  Na- 
tional on  the  Quai  de  Mont  Blanc  one  catches  a 
pleasant  glimpse  of  it  nestling  among  its  trees.  A 
good -sized,  gleaming  white  house,  with  a  centre, 
and  gables  at  each  side,  a  flight  of  steps  leading 
from  the  middle  window  to  the  ground.  A  meadow 
in  front,  nicely  planted,  slopes  charmingly  down  to 
the  blue  lake,  and  behind  the  house,  on  the  left- 
hand  side,  there  is  an  avenue  of  remarkably  fine 
chestnut-trees,  whence  there  is  a  magnificent  view 


i849-j          Continental  Trip  witJi  Brays,  151 

of  the  Jura  mountains  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
lake.    The  road  to  Geneva  is  very  beautiful,  by  the 
lake-side,  bordered  with  plane-trees.    It  was  a  de- 
lightful, soothing  change  after  the  long  illness  and 
the  painful  death  of  her  father— after  the  monoto- 
nous dulness,  too,  of  an  English  provincial  town 
like  Coventry,  where  there  is  little  beauty  of  any 
sort  to  gladden  the  soul.     In  the  first  months  fol- 
lowing a  great  loss  it  is  good  to  be  alone  for  a 
time — alone,  especially  amidst  beautiful  scenes  — 
and  alone  in  the  sense  of  being   removed  from 
habitual  associations,  but  yet  constantly  in  the  so- 
ciety of  new  acquaintances,  who  are  sufficiently  in- 
teresting, but  not  too  intimate.     The  Swiss  corre- 
spondence which  follows  is  chiefly  addressed  to  the 
Brays  collectively,  and  describes  the  life  minutely. 
About  my  comfort  here,  I  find  no  disagreeables,  anclLettertc 
have  every  physical  comfort  that  I  care  about.     The  27th  jul% 
family  seems  well-ordered  and  happy.     I  have  made 
another  friend,  too — an  elderly  English  lady,  a  Mrs. 
Locke,  who  used  to  live  at  Ryde — a  pretty  old  lady, 
with   plenty    of  shrewdness    and   knowledge    of  the 
world.     She  began  to  say  very  kind  things  to  me  in 
rather  a  waspish  tone  yesterday  morning  at  breakfast. 
I  liked  her  better  at  dinner  and  tea,  and  to-day  we  are 
quite  confidential.     I  only  hope  she  will  stay  ;  she  is 
just  the  sort  of  person  I  shall  like  to  have  to  speak  to 
— not  at  all  "congenial,"  but  with  a  character  of  her 
own.     The  going  down  to  tea  bores  me,  and  I  shall 
get  out  of  it  as  soon  as  I  can,  unless  I  can  manage  to 
have  the  newspapers  to  read.     The  American  lady 
embroiders  slippers — the  mamma  looks  on  and  does 
nothing.     The  marquis  and  his  friends  play  at  whist ; 
the  old  ladies  sew ;  and  madame  says  things  so  true 


152  Acquaintances  at  Campagnc  Plongcon.  [GENEVA, 
Letter  to    that  they  are  insufferable.     She  is  obliged  to  talk  to 

the  Hravs,  _  ° 

27th  July,  all.  and  cap  their  niaiscries  with  some  suitable  obser- 
1849. 

vation.     She  has  been  very  kind  and  motherly  to  me. 

I  like  her  better  every  time  I  see  her.  I  have  quiet 
and  comfort  —  what  more  can  I  want  to. make  me  a 
healthy,  reasonable  being  once  more  ?  I  will  never  go 
near  a  friend  again  until  I  can  bring  joy  and  peace  in 
my  heart  and  in  my  face — but  remember  that  friend- 
ship will  be  easy  then. 
«feBra°  *  k°Pe  my  imagination  paints  truly  when  it  shows 

5th  Aug.    me  ail  of  you  seated  with  beaming  faces  round  the  tea- 

1849. 

table  at  Rosehill.  I  shall  be  yearning  to  know  that 
things  as  well  as  people  are  smiling  on  you ;  but  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  let  me  wait  for  news  of  you  longer 
than  is  necessary.  My  life  here  would  be  delightful  if 
we  could  always  keep  the  same  set  of  people ;  but, 
alas !  I  fear  one  generation  will  go  and  another  come 
so  fast  that  I  shall  not  care  to  become  acquainted 
with  any  of  them.  My  good  Mrs.  Locke  is  not  going, 
that  is  one  comfort.  She  is  quite  a  mother  to  me — 
helps  me  to  buy  my  candles  and  do  all  my  shopping 
— takes  care  of  me  at  dinner,  and  quite  rejoices  when 
she  sees  me  enjoy  conversation  or  anything  else.  The 
St.  Germains  are  delightful  people — the  marquise  real- 
ly seems  to  me  the  most  charming  person  I  ever  saw, 
with  kindness  enough  to  make  the  ultra-politeness  of 
her  manners  quite  genuine.  She  is  very  good  to  me, 
and  says  of  me,  "Je  m'interesse  vivement  a  mademoi- 
selle." The  marquis  is  the  most  well-bred,  harmless 
of  men.  He  talks  very  little — every  sentence  seems  a 
terrible  gestation,  and  comes  forth  fortissimo ;  but  he 
generally  bestows  one  on  me,  and  seems  especially  to 
enjoy  my  poor  tunes  (mind  you,  all  these  trivialities 
are  to  satisfy  your  vanity,  not  mine — because  you  are 


i849-l    Acquaintances  at  Campagne  Plongeon.    153 
beginning  to  be  ashamed  of  having  loved  me). 


the  Brays, 

gray-headed  gentleman  got  quite  fond  of  talking  phi-  sti»  Aug. 
losophy  with  me  before  he  went  ;  but,  alas  !  he  and  a 
very  agreeable  young  man  who  was  with  him  are  gone 
to  Aix  les  Bains.  The  young  German  is  the  Baron 
de  H  -  .  I  should  think  he  is  not  more  than  two 
or  three  and  twenty,  very  good-natured,  but  a  most 
determined  enemy  to  all  gallantry.  I  fancy  he  is  a 
Communist;  but  he  seems  to  have  been  joked  about 
his  opinions  by  madame  and  the  rest  until  he  has  de- 
termined to  keep  a  proud  silence  on  such  matters, 
He  has  begun  to  talk  to  me,  and  I  think  we  should 
become  good  friends  ;  but  he,  too,  is  gone  on  an  expe- 
dition to  Monte  Rosa.  He  is  expecting  his  brother  to 
join  him  here  on  his  return,  but  I  fear  they  will  not 
stay  long.  The  gouvernante  is  a  German,  with  a  moral 
region  that  would  rejoice  Mr.  Bray's  eyes.  Poor  soul, 
she  is  in  a  land  of  strangers,  and  often  seems  to  feel 
her  loneliness.  Her  situation  is  a  very  difficult  one  ; 
and  "  die  Angst"  she  says,  often  brings  on  a  pain  at 
her  heart.  Madame  is  a  woman  of  some  reading  and 
considerable  talent  —  very  fond  of  politics,  a  devourer 
of  the  journals,  with  an  opinion  ready  for  you  on  any 
subject  whatever.  It  will  be  a  serious  loss  to  her  to 
part  with  the  St.  Germain  family.  I  fear  that  they  will 
not  stay  longer  than  this  month.  I  should  be  quite 
indifferent  to  the  world  that  comes  or  goes  if  once  I 
had  my  boxes  with  all  my  books.  Last  Sunday  I  went 
with  madame  to  a  small  church  near  Plongeon,  and  I 
could  easily  have  fancied  myself  in  an  Independent 
chapel  at  home.  The  spirit  of  the  sermon  was  not  a 
whit  more  elevated  than  that  of  our  friend  Dr.  Harris; 
the  text,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  "  the  answer 
of  Jesus  being  blinked  as  usual. 
7* 


154  Gcnevese  Preachers.  [GENEVA, 

Letter  to        To-day  I  have  been  to  hear  one  of  the  most  cele- 

the  Brays, 

5thAug.  brated  preachers,  M.  Meunier.  His  sermon  was  really 
eloquent  —  all  written  down,  but  delivered  with  so 
much  energy  and  feeling  that  you  never  thought  of 
the  book.  It  is  curious  to  notice  how  patriotism  — 
denouement  d  la  patrie — is  put  in  the  sermons  as  the 
first  of  virtues,  even  before  devotion  to  the  Church. 
We  never  hear  of  it  in  England  after  we  leave  school. 
The  good  marquis  goes  with  his  family  and  servants, 
all  nicely  dressed,  to  the  Catholic  Church.  They  are 
a  most  orderly  set  of  people  :  there  is  nothing  but 
their  language  and  their  geniality  and  politeness  to 
distinguish  them  from  one  of  the  best  of  our  English 
aristocratic  families.  I  am  perfectly  comfortable;  ev- 
ery one  is  kind  to  me  and  seems  to  like  me.  Your 
kind  hearts  will  rejoice  at  this,  I  know.  Only  remem- 
ber that  I  am  just  as  much  interested  in  all  that  hap- 
pens to  you  at  Rosehill  as  you  are  in  what  happens  to 
me  at  Plongeon.  Pray  that  the  motto  of  Geneva  may 
become  mine — "  Post  tenebras  lux." 

Letter  to        j  have  no  head  for  writing  to-day,  for  I  have  been 

the  Brays,  J 

i8lhAug'  keeping  my  bed  for  the  last  three  days;  but  I  must 
remember  that  writing  to  you  is  like  ringing  a  bell 
hung  in  the  planet  Jupiter — it  is  so  weary  a  while  be- 
fore one's  letters  reach.  I  have  been  positively  sick- 
ening for  want  of  my  boxes,  and  anxiety  to  hear  of  my 
relations.  Your  kind  letter  of  this  morning  has  qui- 
eted the  latter  a  little ;  but  my  boxes,  alas !  have  not 
appeared.  Do  not  be  alarmed  about  my  health.  I 
have  only  had  a  terrible  headache — prolonged,  in 
fact,  by  the  assiduities  of  the  good  people  here ;  for 
the  first  day  I  lay  in  my  bed  I  had  the  whole  female 
world  of  Plongeon  in  my  bedroom,  and  talked  so  in- 
cessantly that  I  was  unable  to  sleep  after  it;  the  con- 


1 849.]  Life  at  Campagne  Plongeon.  155 

sequence,  as  you  may  imagine,  was  that  the  next  day  Letter  to 
I  was  very  much  worse;  but  I  am  getting  better,  anc!20thAug. 

1049* 

indeed  it  was  worth  while  to  be  ill  to  have  so  many 
kind  attentions.  There  is  a  fresh  German  family  from 
Frankfurt  here  just  now — Madame  Cornelius  and  her 
children.  She  is  the  daughter  of  the  richest  banker  in 
Frankfurt,  and,  what  is  better,  full  of  heart  and  mind, 
with  a  face  that  tells  you  so  before  she  opens  her  lips. 
She  has  more  reading  than  the  marquise,  being  Ger- 
man and  Protestant ;  and  it  is  a  real  refreshment  to 
talk  with  her  for  half  an  hour.  The  dear  marquise  is 
a  truly  devout  Catholic.  It  is  beautiful  to  hear  her 
speak  of  the  comfort  she  has  in  the  confessional — for 
our  tctes-a-tete  have  lately  turned  on  religious  matters. 
She  says  I  am  in  a  "  mauvaise  voie  sous  le  rapport  de 
la  religion.  Peut  etre  vous  vous  marierez,  et  le  mari- 
age,  chere  arnie,  sans  la  foi  religieuse  !  .  .  ."  She 
says  I  have  isolated  myself  by  my  studies — that  I  am 
too  cold  and  have  too  little  confidence  in  the  feelings 
of  others  towards  me — that  I  do  not  believe  how  deep 
an  interest  she  has  conceived  in  my  lot.  She  says 
Signer  Goldrini  (the  young  Italian  who  was  here  for  a 
week)  told  her,  when  he  had  been  talking  to  me  one 
evening,  "Vous  aimerez  cette  demoiselle,  j'en  suis 
stir  " — and  she  has  found  his  prediction  true.  They 
are  leaving  for  their  own  country  on  Wednesday.  She 
hopes  I  shall  go  to  Italy  and  see  her;  and  when  I  tell 
her  that  I  have  no  faith  that  she  will  remember  me 
long  enough  for  me  to  venture  on  paying  her  a  visit  if 
ever  I  should  go  to  Italy  again,  she  shakes  her  head  at 
my  incredulity.  She  was  born  at  Genoa.  Her  father 
was  three  years  Sardinian  Minister  at  Constantinople 
before  she  was  married,  and  she  speaks  with  enthusi- 
asm of  her  life  there — "C'est  la  le  pays  de  la  vraie 


156  Life  at  Campagnc  Plongcon.       [GENEVA, 

Letter  to    poe'sie  ou  Ton  sent  ce  qua  c'est  cue  de  vivre  par  le 

the  Urays,   r 

2oth  Aug.  coeur."     M.  de  H is  returned  from  Monte  Rosa. 

I&49- 

He  would  be  a  nice  person  if  he  had  another  soul 
added  to  the  one  he  has  by  nature — the  soul  that 
comes  by  sorrow  and  love.  I  stole  his  book  while  he 
was  gone — the  first  volume  of  Louis  Blanc's  "History 
of  Ten  Years."  It  contains  a  very  interesting  account 
of  the  three  days  of  July,  1830.  His  brother  is  com- 
ing to  join  him,  so  I  hope  he  will  not  go  at  present. 
Tell  Miss  Sibree  my  address,  and  beg  her  to  write  to 
me  all  about  herself,  and  to  write  on  thin  paper.  I 
hardly  know  yet  whether  I  shall  like  this  place  well 
enough  to  stay  here  through  the  winter.  I  have  been 
under  the  disadvantage  of  wanting  all  on  which  I 
chiefly  depend,  my  books,  etc.  When  I  have  been 
here  another  month  I  shall  be  better  able  to  judge. 
I  hope  you  managed  to  get  in  the  black  velvet  dress. 
The  people  dress,  and  think  about  dressing,  here  more 
even  than  in  England.  You  would  not  know  me  if 
you  saw  me.  The  marquise  took  on  her  the  office  of 
femme  de  chambre  and  dressed  my  hair  one  day.  She 
has  abolished  all  my  curls,  and  made  two  things  stick 
out  on  each  side  of  my  head  like  those  on  the  head  of 
the  Sphinx.  All  the  world  says  I  look  infinitely  bet- 
ter; so  I  comply,  though  to  myself  I  seem  uglier  than 
ever — if  possible.  I  am  fidgeted  to  death  about  my 
boxes,  and  that  tiresome  man  not  to  acknowledge  the 
receipt  of  them.  I  make  no  apology  for  writing  all  my 
peevishness  and  follies,  because  I  want  you  to  do  the 
same — to  let  me  know  everything  about  you,  to  the 
aching  of  your  fingers — and  you  tell  me  very  little. 
My  boxes,  my  boxes !  I  dream  of  them  night  and  day. 
Dear  Mr.  Hennell !  Give  him  my  heartiest  affection- 
ate remembrances.  Tell  him  I  find  no  one  here  so 


1849-]  F$te  of  Navigation.  157 

spirited  as  he:  there  are  no  better  jokes  going  than  I  Letter  to 

J  the  Brays, 

can  make  myself.    Mrs.  Hennell  and  Mrs.  C.  Hennell,20th  Aus- 

1849. 

too,  all  are  remembered  —  if  even  I  have  only  seen 
them  in  England. 

Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff.  the  wife  of  an  Austrian  bar- Better  to 

the  Brays, 

on,  has  been  here  for  two  days,  and  is  coming  again.  ^ 
She  is  handsome,  spirited,  and  clever — pure  English 
by  birth,  but  quite  foreign  in  manners  and  appearance. 
She,  and  all  the  world  besides,  are  going  to  winter  in 
Italy.  Nothing  annoys  me  now ;  I  feel  perfectly  at 
home,  and  shall  really  be  comfortable  when  I  have  all 
my  little  matters  about  me.  This  place  looks  more 
lovely  to  me  every  day — the  lake,  the  town,  the  cam- 
pagnes,  with  their  stately  trees  and  pretty  houses,  the 
glorious  mountains  in  the  distance  ;  one  can  hardly 
believe  one's  self  on  earth ;  one  might  live  here,  and 
forget  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  want  or  labor  or 
sorrow.  The  perpetual  presence  of  all  this  beauty  has 
somewhat  the  effect  of  mesmerism  or  chloroform.  I 
feel  sometimes  as  if  I  were  sinking  into  an  agreeable 
state  of  numbness,  on  the  verge  of  unconsciousness, 
and  seem  to  want  well  pinching  to  rouse  me.  The 
other  day  (Sunday)  there  was  a.  fete  held  on  the  lake — 
the  fete  of  Navigation.  I  went  out,  with  some  other 

ladies,  in  M.  de  H 's  boat,  at  sunset,  and  had  the 

richest  draught  of  beauty.  All  the  boats  of  Geneva 
turned  out  in  their  best  attire.  When  the  moon  and 
stars  came  out  there  were  beautiful  fireworks  sent  up 
from  the  boats.  The  mingling  of  the  silver  and  the 
golden  rays  on  the  rippled  lake,  the  bright  colors  of 
the  boats,  the  music,  the  splendid  fireworks,  and  the 
pale  moon  looking  at  it  all  with  a  sort  of  grave  sur- 
prise, made  up  a  scene  of  perfect  enchantment :  and 
our  dear  old  Mont  Blanc  was  there,  in  his  white  ermine 


1 58  Chameleon-like  Nature.  [GENEVA, 

Letterto    robe.     I  rowed  all  the  time,  and  hence  comes  my  palsy. 

the  Brays,  J   r         J 

•sih  Aug.  I  can  perfectly  fancy  dear  Mrs.  Pears  in  her  Leaming- 
ton house.  How  beautiful  all  that  Foleshill  life  looks 
now,  like  the  distant  Jura  in  the  morning !  She  was 
such  a  sweet,  dear,  good  friend  to  me.  My  walks  with 
her,  my  little  visits  to  them  in  the  evening — all  is  re- 
membered. I  am  glad  you  have  seen  Fanny  again  ; 
any  attention  you  show  her  is  a  real  kindness  to  me, 
and  I  assure  you  she  is  worth  it.  You  know,  or,  you 
do  not  know,  that  my  nature  is  so  chameleon-like  I 
shall  lose  all  my  identity  unless  you  keep  nourishing  the 
old  self  with  letters ;  so,  pray,  write  as  much  and  as 
often  as  you  can.  It  jumps  admirably  with  my  humor 
to  live  in  two  worlds  at  once  in  this  way.  I  possess 
my  dearest  friends  and  my  old  environment  in  my 
thoughts,  and  another  world  of  novelty  and  beauty  in 
which  I  am  actually  moving,  and  my  contrariety  of 
disposition  always  makes  the  world  that  lives  in  my 
thoughts  the  dearer  of  the  two,  the  one  in  which  I 
more  truly  dwell.  So,  after  all,  I  enjoy  my  friends 
most  when  I  am  away  from  them.  I  shall  not  say  so, 
though,  if  I  should  live  to  rejoin  you  six  or  seven  months 
hence.  Keep  me  for  seven1  years  longer,  and  you 
will  find  out  the  use  of  me,  like  all  other  pieces  of  trump- 
ery. 

Letter  Have  I  confided  too  much  in  your  generosity  in  sup- 

Houghton,  posing  that  you  would  write  to  me  first  ?  or  is  there 

6th  Sept.     J  * 

'849.  some  other  reason  for  your  silence  ?  I  suffer  greatly 
from  it — not  entirely  from  selfish  reasons,  but  in  great 
part  because  I  am  really  anxious  to  know  all  about 
you,  your  state  of  health  and  spirits,  the  aspect  of 

1  It  may  be  noted  as  a  curious  verification  of  this  presentiment 
that  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  were  published  in  1856 — just  seven 
years  later. 


1849-]        Anxiety  about  Friends  at  Home.          159 
things  within  and  without  you.     Did  Mr.  Bray  convey  Letter 

...  .to  Mrs. 

to  you  my  earnest  request  that  you  would  write  to  me  ?  Houghum, 
You  know  of  my  whereabouts  and  circumstances  from  1849. 
my  good  friends  at  Rosehill,  so  that  I  have  little  to 
tell  you ;  at  least,  I  have  not  spirit  to  write  of  myself 
until  I  have  heard  from  you,  and  .have  an  assurance 
from  yourself  that  you  yet  care  about  me.  Sara  (Mrs. 
Isaac  Evans)  has  sent  me  word  of  the  sad,  sad  loss 
that  has  befallen  poor  Chrissey  and  Edward — a  loss  in 
which  I  feel  that  I  have  a  share  ;  for  that  angelic  little 
being  had  great  interest  for  me ;  she  promised  to  pay 
so  well  for  any  care  spent  on  her.  I  can  imagine  poor 
Edward's  almost  frantic  grief,  and  I  dread  the  effect 
on  Chrissey's  weak  frame  of  her  more  silent  suffering. 
Anything  you  can  tell  me  about  them  will  be  read  very 
eagerly.  I  begin  to  feel  the  full  value  of  a  letter ;  so 
much  so  that,  if  ever  I  am  convinced  that  any  one  has 
the  least  anxiety  to  hear  from  me,  I  shall  always  reck- 
on it  among  the  first  duties  to  sit  down  without  delay, 
giving  no  ear  to  the  suggestions  of  my  idleness  and 
aversion  to  letter-writing.  Indeed,  I  am  beginning  to 
find  it  really  pleasant  to  write  to  my  friends,  now  that 
I  am  so  far  away  from  them  ;  and  I  could  soon  fill  a 
sheet  to  you,  if  your  silence  did  not  weigh  too  heavily 
on  my  heart.  My  health  is  by  no  means  good  yet; 
seldom  good  enough  not  to  be  a  sort  of  drag  on  my 
mind ;  so  you  must  make  full  allowance  for  too  much 
egotism  and  susceptibility  in  me.  It  seems  to  be  three 
years  instead  of  three  months  since  I  was  in  England 
and  amongst  you,  and  I  imagine  that  all  sorts  of  revolu- 
tions must  have  taken  place  in  the  interim  ;  whereas 
to  you,  I  dare  say,  remaining  in  your  old  home  and 
among  your  every-day  duties,  the  time  has  slipped 
away  so  rapidly  that  you  are  unable  to  understand  my 


160  Plans  for  Lessons.  [GENEVA. 

Le«er       anxiety  to  hear  from  you.     I  think  the  climate  here  is 

to  Mrs.  ' 

Houghton,  not  particularly  healthy ;  I  suppose,  from  the  vicinity 

6th  ocptt 

1849-  of  the  lake,  which,  however,  becomes  so  dear  to  me 
that  one  cannot  bear  to  hear  it  accused.  Good-bye, 
dear  Fanny ;  a  thousand  blessings  to  you,  whether  you 
write  to  me  or  norland  much  gratitude  if  you  do. 
Letter  to  My  boxes  arrived  last  Friday.  The  expense  was 
i3th  Sept.  fr.  150 — perfectly  horrible!  Clearly,  I  must  give  my- 
self for  food  to  the  fowls  of  the  air  or  the  fishes  of  the 
lake.  It  is  a  consolation  to  a  mind  imbued  with  a 
lofty  philosophy  that,  when  one  can  get  nothing  to  eat, 
one  can  still  be  eaten — the  evil  is  only  apparent.  It  is 
quite  settled  that  I  cannot  stay  at  Plongeon  ;  I  must 
move  into  town.  But,  alas !  I  must  pay  fr.  200  per 
month.  If  I  were  there  I  should  see  more  conversable 
people  than  here  Do  you  think  any  one  would  buy 
my  "  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  "  at  half-price,  and  my 
globes?  If  so,  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  exceeding 
my  means,  and  I  should  have  a  little  money  to  pay  for 
my  piano,  and  for  some  lessons  of  different  kinds  that 
I  want  to  take.  The  "  Encyclopaedia  "  is  the  last  edition. 
and  cost  £42,  and  the  globes  £8  IQS.  I  shall  never 
have  anywhere  to  put  them,  so  it  is  folly  to  keep  them, 
if  any  one  will  buy  them.  No  one  else  has  written  to 
me,  though  I  have  written  to  almost  all.  I  would 
rather  have  it  so  than  feel  that  the  debt  was  on  my 
side.  When  will  you  come  to  me  for  help,  that  I  may 
be  able  to  hate  you  a  little  less  ?  I  shall  leave  here  as 
soon  as  I  am  able  to  come  to  a  decision,  as  I  am  anx- 
ious to  feel  settled,  and  the  weather  is  becoming  cold. 
This  house  is  like  a  bird-cage  set  down  in  a  garden. 
Do  not  count  this  among  my  letters.  I  am  good  for 
nothing  to-day,  and  can  write  nothing  well  but  bitter- 
ness, so  that  I  will  not  trust  myself  to  say  another 


1849-]  Letters  from  Brother  and  Sisters.  161 
word.  The  Baronne  de  Ludwigsdorff  seems  to  haveLetterto 

the  Brays, 

begun  to  like  me  very  much,  and  is  really  kind;  so  '3th Sept 
you  see  Heaven  sends  kind  souls,  though  they  are  by 
no  means  kindred  ones.  Poor  Mrs.  Locke  is  to  write 
to  me — has  given  me  a  little  ring  j  says,  "  Take  care  of 
yourself,  my  child — have  some  tea  of  your  own — you'll 
be  quite  another  person  if  you  get  some  introductions 
to  clever  people  ;  you'll  get  on  well  among  a  certain 
set — that's  true ;"  it  is  her  way  to  say  "  that's  true  " 
after  all  her  affirmations.  She  says,  "You  won't  find 
any  kindred  spirits  at  Plongeon,  my  dear." 

I  am  feeling  particularly  happy  because  I  have  had  Letter  to 

J          rrj  the  Brayfe, 

very  kind  letters  from  my  brother  and  sisters.     I  am2 

1 

ashamed  to  fill  sheets  about  myself,  but  I  imagined 
that  this  was  precisely  what  you  wished.  Pray  correct 
my  mistake,  if  it  be  one,  and  then  I  will  look  over  the 
Calvin  manuscripts,  and  give  you  some  information  of 
really  general  interest,  suited  to  our  mutual  capacities. 
Mme.  Ludwigsdorff  is  so  good  to  me  —  a  charming 
creature — so  anxious  to  see  me  comfortably  settled — 
petting  me  in  all  sorts  of  ways.  She  sends  me  tea 
when  I  wake  in  the  morning — orange-flower  water 
when  I  go  to  bed — grapes — and  her  maid  to  wait  on 
me.  She  says  if  I  like  she  will  spend  the  winter  after 
this  at  Paris  with  me,  and  introduce  me  to  her  friends 
there ;  but  she  does  not  mean  to  attach  herself  to  me, 
because  I  shall  never  like  her  long.  I  shall  be  tired 
of  her  when  I  have  sifted  her,  etc.  She  says  I  have 
more  intellect  than  morale,  and  other  things  more  true 
than  agreeable;  however,  she  is  "greatly  interested" 
in  me  ;  has  told  me  her  troubles  and  her  feelings,  she 

*  o    ' 

says,  in  spite  of  herself;  for  she  has  never  been  able 
before  in  her  life  to  say  so  much  even  to  her  old  friends. 
It  is  a  mystery  she  cannot  unravel.  She  is  a  person 


1 62  Madame  Ludwigsdorff.          [GENEVA, 

°f  high  culture,  according  to  the  ordinary  notions  of 

ept  what  feminine  culture  should  be.     She  speaks  French 
1849. 

and  German  perfectly,  plays  well,  and  has  the  most 

perfect  polish  of  manner — the  most  thorough  refine- 
ment, both  socially  and  morally.  She  is  tall  and  hand 
some,  a  striking-looking  person,  but  with  a  sweet  fern 
inine  expression  when  she  is  with  those  she  likes ;, 
dresses  exquisitely ;  in  fine,  is  all  that  I  am  not.  I 
shall  tire  you  with  all  this,  but  I  want  you  to  know 
what  good  creatures  there  are  here  as  elsewhere. 
Miss  F.  tells  me  that  the  first  day  she  sat  by  my  side 
at  dinner  she  looked  at  me  and  thought  to  herself, 
"That  is  a  grave  lady ;  I  do  not  think  I  shall  like  her 
much  ;"  but  as  soon  as  I  spoke  to  her,  and  she  looked 
into  my  eyes,  she  felt  she  could  love  me.  Then  she 
lent  me  a  book  written  by  her  cousin — a  religious  novel 
— in  which  there  is  a  fearful  infidel  who  will  not  believe, 
and  hates  all  who  do,  etc.  Then  she  invited  me  to 
walk  with  her,  and  came  to  talk  in  my  room  ;  then  in- 
vited me  to  go  to  the  Oratoire  with  them,  till  I  began 
to  be  uncomfortable  under  the  idea  that  they  fancied 
I  was  evangelical,  and  that  I  was  gaining  their  affec- 
tion under  false  pretences ;  so  I  told  Miss  F.  that  I 
was  going  to  sacrifice  her  good  opinion,  and  confess 
my  heresies.  I  quite  expected,  from  their  manner  and 
character,  that  they  would  forsake  me  in  horror — but 
they  are  as  kind  as  ever.  They  never  go  into  the  salon 
in  the  evening,  and  I  have  almost  forsaken  it,  spend- 
ing the  evening  frequently  in  Mme.  de  Luclwigsdorff's 
room,  where  we  have  some  delightful  tea.  The  tea  of 
the  house  here  is  execrable;  or,  rather,  as  Mrs.  A. 
says,**'  How  glad  we  ought  to  be  that  it  has  no  taste 
at  all ;  it  might  have  a  very  bad  one  !"  I  like  the  A.'s ; 
they  are  very  good-natured.  Mrs.  A.,  a  very  ugly  but 


Friends.  163 

lady-like  little  woman,  who  is  under  an  infatuation  "as  Letter  to 

•  .  the  Brays, 

it  regards"  her  caps — always  wearing  the  brightest  zoth  Sept 
rose-color  or  intensest  blue — with  a  complexion  not  un- 
like a  dirty  primrose  glove.  The  rest  of  the  people 
are  nothing  to  me,  except,  indeed,  dear  old  Mile,  de 
Phaisan,  who  comes  into  my  room  when  I  am  ill,  with 
"  Qu'est  ce  que  vous  avez,  ma  bonne  ?"  in  the  tone  of 
the  kindest  old  aunt,  and  thinks  that  I  am  the  most 
amiable  douce  creature,  which  will  give  you  a  better 
opinion  of  her  charity  than  her  penetration. 

Dear  creatures !  no  one  is  so  good  as  you  yet.  I 
have  not  yet  found  any  one  who  can  bear  comparison 
with  you ;  not  in  kindness  to  me — (a  va  sans  dire — but 
in  solidity  of  mind  and  in  expansion  of  feeling.  This 
is  a  very  coarse  thing  to  say,  but  it  came  to  the  end 
of  my  pen,  and  litera  scripta  manet — at  least,  when  it 
comes  at  the  end  of  the  second  page.  I  shall  certain- 
ly stay  at  Geneva  this  winter,  and  shall  return  to  Eng- 
land as  early  as  the  spring  weather  will  permit,  always 
supposing  that  nothing  occurs  to  alter  my  plans.  I 
am  still  thin  ;  so  how  much  will  be  left  of  me  next 
April  I  am  afraid  to  imagine.  I  shall  be  length  with- 
out breadth.  Cara's  assurance  that  you  are  well  and 
comfortable  is  worth  a  luncheon  to  me,  which  is  just 
the  thing  I  am  generally  most  in  want  of,  for  we  dine 
at  six  now.  I  love  to  imagine  you  in  your  home  ;  and 
everything  seems  easy  to  me  when  I  am  not  disturbed 
about  the  health  or  well-being  of  my  loved  ones.  It  is 
really  so  ;  I  do  not  say  it  out  of  any  sort  of  affectation, 
benevolent  or  otherwise.  I  am  without  carefulness, 
alas !  in  more  senses  than  one.  Thank  Sara  very 
heartily  for  her  letter.  I  do  not  write  a  special  sheet 
for  her  to-day,  because  I  have  to  write  to  two  or  three 
other  people,  but  she  must  not  the  less  believe  how  I 


164  Anxiety  for  Letters.  [GENEVA, 

Letter  to    valued  a  little  private  morsel  from  her;  and  also  that 

aoth Sept.'  I  would  always  rather  she  wrote  "from  herself"  than 
18.49. 

"to  me"  —  that  is  my  theory  of  letter -writing.     Your 

letters  are  as  welcome  as  Elijah's  ravens  —  I  thought 
of  saying  the  dinner-bell,  only  that  would  be  too  gross ! 
I  get  impatient  at  the  end  of  the  ten  days  which  it 
takes  for  our  letters  to  go  to  and  fro ;  and  I  have  not 
the  least  faith  in  the  necessity  for  keeping  the  sheet 
three  or  four  days  before  Mr.  Bray  can  find  time  to 
write  his  meagre  bit.  If  you  see  the  Miss  Franklins, 
give  my  love  to  them ;  my  remembrances  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Whittem ;  love  to  Miss  Sibree  always.  Hearty 
love  to  Clapton1  and  Woodford  ;*  and  a  very  diffusive 
benevolence  to  the  world  in  general,  without  any  par- 
ticular attachment  to  A  or  B.  I  am  trying  to  please 
Mr.  Bray.  Good-bye,  dear  souls.  Dominus  vobiscum. 
Letter  to  I  am  anxious  for  you  to  know  my  new  address,  as  I 

the  Brays,  * 

Thursday,  shall  leave  here  on  Tuesday.     I  think  I  have  at  last 

4th  Oct.  * 

•849-  found  the  very  thing.  I  shall  be  the  only  lodger.  The 
appartement  is  assezjoli,  with  an  alcove,  so  that  it  looks 
like  a  sitting-room  in  the  daytime  —  the  people,  an 
artist  of  great  respectability,  and  his  wife,  a  most  kind- 
looking,  ladylike  person,  with  two  boys,  who  have  the 
air  of  being  well  educated.  They  seem  very  anxious 
to  have  me,  and  are  ready  to  do  anything  to  accom- 
modate me.  I  shall  live  with  them — that  is,  dine  with 
them  ;  breakfast  in  my  own  room.  The  terms  are 
fr.  150  per  month,  light  included.  M.  and  Mme. 
d' Albert  are  middle-aged,  musical,  and,  I  am  told, 
have  beaucoup  d'esprit.  I  hope  this  will  not  exceed 
my  means  for  four  or  five  months.  There  is  a  nice, 
large  salon  and  a  good  salle  a  manger.  I  am  told  that 

»  Mrs.  Henneli.  *  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.  Hennell. 


1849-]  Need  of  Encouragement.  165 

their  society  is  very  good.     Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff  was  Letter  to 
about  going  there  a  year  ago.  and  it  was  she  who  rec-  Thursday, 

4th  Oct. 

ommended  it  to  me.  l849- 

I  hope  Sara's  fears  are  supererogatory — a  proof  of 
a  too  nervous  solicitude  about  me,  for  which  I  am 
grateful,  though  it  does  me  no  good  to  hear  of  it.  I 
want  encouraging  rather  than  warning  and  checking. 
I  believe  I  am  so  constituted  that  I  shall  never  be 
cured  of  my  faults  except  by  God's  discipline.  If  hu- 
man beings  would  but  believe  it,  they  do  me  the  most 
good  by  saying  to  me  the  kindest  things  truth  will  per- 
mit ;  and  really  I  cannot  hope  those  will  be  superla- 
tively kind.  The  reason  I  wished  to  raise  a  little  extra 
money  is  that  I  wanted  to  have  some  lessons  and 
other  means  of  culture — not  for  my  daily  bread,  for 
which  I  hope  I  shall  have  enough ;  but,  since  you 
think  my  scheme  impracticable,  we  will  dismiss  it.  Au 
reste,  be  in  no  anxiety  about  me.  Nothing  is  going 
wrong  that  I  know  of.  I  am  not  an  absolute  fool  and 
weakling.  When  I  am  fairly  settled  in  my  new  home 
I  will  write  again.  My  address  will  be — M.  d' Albert 
Durade,  Rue  des  Chanoines,  No.  107. 

The  blessed  compensation   there  is  in   all   things  Letter 

&     to  Mrs. 

made  your  letter  doubly  precious  for  having  been  Houston, 
waited  for,  and  it  would  have  inspired  me  to  write  to  1849- 
you  again  much  sooner,  but  that  I  have  been  in  uncer- 
tainty about  settling  myself  for  the  winter,  and  I  wished 
to  send  you  my  future  address.  I  am  to  move  to  my 
new  home  on  Tuesday  the  gth.  I  shall  not  at  all  re- 
gret leaving  here  ;  the  season  is  beginning  to  be  rather 
sombre,  though  the  glorious  chestnuts  here  are  still 
worth  looking  at  half  the  day.  You  have  heard  of  some 
of  the  people  whom  I  have  described  in  my  letters  to 
Rosehill.  The  dear  little  old  maid,  Mile,  de  Phaisan, 


1 66  "Tangible  Sufferings"  [GENEVA, 

Letter  is  quite  a  good  friend  to  me — extremely  prosy,  and  full 
Houghton,  of  tiny  details  ;  but  really  people  of  that  calibre  are  a 
»849-  comfort  to  one  occasionally,  when  one  has  not  strength 
enough  for  more  stimulating  things.  She  is  a  sample 
of  those  happy  souls  who  ask  for  nothing  but  the  work 
of  the  hour,  however  trivial ;  who  are  contented  to  live 
without  knowing  whether  they  effect  anything,  but  who 
do  really  effect  much  good,  simply  by  their  calm  and 
even  maintien.  I  laugh  to  hear  her  say  in  a  tone  of 
remonstrance  —  "  Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff  dit  qu'elle 
s'ennuie  quand  les  soire'es  sont  longues :  moi,  je  ne 
con^ois  pas  comment  on  peut  s'ennuyer  quand  on  a 
de  1'ouvrage  ou  des  jeux  ou  de  la  conversation."  When 
people  who  are  dressing  elegantly  and  driving  about 
to  make  calls  every  day  of  their  life  have  been  telling 
me  of  their  troubles — their  utter  hopelessness  of  ever 
finding  a  vein  worth  working  in  their  future  life — my 
thoughts  have  turned  towards  many  whose  sufferings 
are  of  a  more  tangible  character,  and  I  have  really 
felt  all  the  old  commonplaces  about  the  equality  of 
human  destinies,  always  excepting  those  spiritual  dif- 
ferences which  are  apart  not  only  from  poverty  and 
riches,  but  from  individual  affections.  Dear  Chrissey 
has  found  time  and  strength  to  write  to  me,  and  very 
precious  her  letter  was,  though  I  wept  over  it.  "  Deep, 
abiding  grief  must  be  mine,"  she  says,  and  I  know 
well  it  must  be.  The  mystery  of  trial !  It  falls  with 
such  avalanche  weight  on  the  head  of  the  meek  and 
patient.  I  wish  I  could  do  something  of  more  avail 
for  my  friends  than  love  them  and  long  for  their  hap- 
piness. 
Letter  to  jtf.  an(j  Mme.  d'Albert  are  really  clever  people — 

the  Krays,  * 

iith  Oct.    people  worth  sitting  up  an  hour  longer  to  talk  to.    This 
does  not  hinder  madame  from  being  an  excellent  man- 


1849-]  M.  d1  Albert  Durade.  167 

ager — dressing  scrupulously,  and  keeping  her  servants  Letter  to 

the  Brays. 

in  order.     She  has  hung  my  room  with  pictures,  onellth°ct-' 

1 849* 

of  which  is  the  most  beautiful  group  of  flowers  con- 
ceivable thrown  on  an  open  Bible,  painted  by  herself. 
I  have  a  piano  which  I  hire.  There  is  also  one  in  the 
salon.  M.  d'Albert  plays  and  sings,  and  in  the  winter 
he  tells  me  they  have  parties  to  sing  masses  and  do 
other  delightful  things.  In  fact,  I  think  I  am  just  in 
the  right  place.  I  breakfast  in  my  own  room  at  half- 
past  eight,  lunch  at  half-past  twelve,  and  dine  at  four 
or  a  little  after,  and  take  tea  at  eight.  From  the  tea- 
table  I  have  gone  into  the  salon  and  chatted  until  bed- 
time. It  would  really  have  been  a  pity  to  have  stayed 
at  Plongeon,  out  of  reach  of  everything,  and  with  peo- 
ple so  little  worth  talking  to.  I  have  not  found  out 
the  desagrkmens  here  yet.  It  is  raining  horribly,  but 
this  just  saves  me  from  the  regret  I  should  have  felt  at 
having  quitted  the  chestnuts  of  Plongeon.  That  cam- 
pagne  looked  splendid  in  its  autumn  dress. 

George  Eliot  retained  so  warm  an  admiration 
and  love  for  M.  d'Albert  Durade  to  the  end  of  her 
life  that  it  seems  fitting  here  to  mention  that  he 
still  lives,  carrying  well  the  weight  of  eighty  winters. 
He  is  conservateur  of  the  Athenee  —  a  permanent 
exhibition  of  works  of  art  in  Geneva ;  and  he  pub- 
lished only  last  year  (1883)  a  French  translation 
of  the  "Scenes  of  Clerical  Life,"  having  already 
previously  published  translations  of  "Adam  Bede," 
"Felix  Holt,"  "Silas  Marner,"  and  "Romola." 
The  description  of  his  personal  appearance,  in  the 
following  letter,  still  holds  good,  save  that  the  gray 
hair  has  become  quite  white.  He  lost  his  wife  in 
1873;  and  it  will  be  seen  from  subsequent  letters 
that  George  Eliot  kept  up  a  faithful  attachment  to 


l68  No.  107,  Rnc  dcs  Chanoincs.       [GENEVA, 

her  to  the  end.  They  were  both  friends  after  her 
own  heart.  The  old  apartment  is  now  No.  18,  in- 
stead of  No.  107,  Rue  des  Chanoines,  and  is  occu- 
pied as  the  printing-office  of  the  Journal  de  Geneve. 
But  half  of  the  rooms  remain  just  as  they  were  five- 
and-thirty  years  ago.  The  salon,  wainscoted  in  imi- 
tation light-oak  panels,  with  a  white  China  stove, 
and  her  bedroom  opening  off  it — as  she  had  often 
described  it  to  me  ;  and  M.  d'Albert  has  still  in  his 
possession  the  painting  of  the  bunch  of  beautiful 
flowers  thrown  on  an  open  Bible  mentioned  in  the 
last  letter.  He  told  me  that  when  Miss  Evans  first 
came  to  look  at  the  house  she  was  so  horrified  with 
the  forbidding  aspect  of  the  stairs  that  she  declared 
she  would  not  go  up  above  the  first  floor;  but  when 
she  got  inside  the  door  she  was  reconciled  to  her 
new  quarters.  Calvin's  house  is  close  to  the  Rue 
des  Chanoines,  and  she  was  much  interested  in  it. 
It  will  be  seen  that  she  did  some  work  in  physics 
under  Professor  de  la  Rive ;  but  she  principally 
rested  and  enjoyed  herself  during  the  stay  at 
Geneva.  It  was  exactly  the  kind  of  life  she  was 
in  need  of  at  the  time,  and  the  letters  show  how 
much  she  appreciated  it. 
Letter  to  I  languished  for  your  letter  before  it  came,  and  read  it 

the  Brays,  ' 

a5th  Oct.  three  times  running — judge  whether  I  care  less  for  you 
than  of  old.  It  is  the  best  of  blessings  to  know  that 
you  are  well  and  cheerful;  and  when  I  think  of  all  that 
might  happen  in  a  fortnight  to  make  you  otherwise, 
especially  in  these  days  of  cholera  and  crises,  I  cannot 
help  being  anxious  until  I  get  a  fresh  assurance  that  at 
least  five  days  ago  all  was  well.  Before  I  say  anything 
about  myself,  I  must  contradict  your  suspicion  that  I 
paint  things  too  agreeably  for  the  sake  of  giving  you 


i349-j  M.  and  Mme.  d'Albert.  169 

pleasure.    I  assure  you  my  letters  are  subjectively  true:  Letter  to 

*  '  the  Brays, 

the  falsehood,  if  there  be  any,  is  in  my  manner  of  26th  Oct 
seeing  things.  But  I  will  give  you  some  v'erites  positives, 
'in  which,  alas  !  poor  imagination  has  hitherto  been  able 
to  do  little  for  the  world.  Mme.  d'Albert  anticipates 
all  my  wants,  and  makes  a  spoiled  child  of  me.  I  like 
these  dear  people  better  and  better — everything  is  so 
in  harmony  with  one's  moral  feeling  that  I  really  can 
almost  say  I  never  enjoyed  a  more  complete  bien  £tre 
in  my  life  than  during  the  last  fortnight.  For  M. 
d'Albert,  I  love  him  already  as  if  he  were  father  and 
brother  both.  His  face  is  rather  haggard-looking,  but 
all  the  lines  and  the  wavy  gray  hair  indicate  the  tern-- 
perament  of  the  artist.  I  have  not  heard  a  word  or 
seen  a  gesture  of  his  yet  that  was  not  perfectly  in  har- 
mony with  an  exquisite  moral  refinement — indeed,  one 
feels  a  better  person  always  when  he  is  present.  He 
sings  well,  and  plays  on  the  piano  a  little.  It  is  de- 
lightful to  hear  him  talk  of  his  friends — he  admires 
them  so  genuinely — one  sees  so  clearly  that  there  is 
no  reflex  egotism.  His  conversation  is  charming.  I 
learn  something  every  dinner-time.  Mme.  d'Albert 
has  less  of  genius  and  more  of  cleverness — a  really 
lady-like  person,  who  says  everything  well.  She  brings 
up  her  children  admirably — two  nice,  intelligent  boys;1 
— the  youngest,  particularly,  has  a  sort  of  Lamartine 
expression,  with  a  fine  head.  It  is  so  delightful  to  get 
among  people  who  exhibit  no  meannesses,  no  worldli- 
nesses,  that  one  may  well  be  enthusiastic.  To  me  it  is 
so  blessed  to  find  any  departure  from  the  rule  of  giving 

'Mr.  Charles  Lewes  tells  me  that  when  he  went  to  stay  with  the 
D'Albcrts  at  Geneva,  many  years  afterwards,  they  mentioned  how 
much  they  had  been  struck  by  her  extraordinary  discernment  of 
the  character  of  these  two  boys. 
8 


I/O  Life  in  Geneva.  [GENEVA, 

Letter  to    as  little  as  possible  for  as  much  as  possible.     Their 

the  Brays, 

26th  Oct.    whole  behavior  to  me  is  as  if  I  were  a  guest  whom  they 

1849.  .  * 

delighted  to  honor.     Last  night  we  had  a  little  knot 

of  their  most  intimate  musical  friends,  and  M.  and 
Mme.  d'Albert  introduced  me  to  them  as  if  they  wished 
me  to  know  them — as  if  they  wished  me  to  like  their 
friends  and  their  friends  to  like  me.  The  people  and 
the  evening  would  have  been  just  after  your  own  hearts. 
In  fact,  I  have  not  the  slightest  pretext  for  being  dis- 
contented— not  the  shadow  of  a  discomfort.  Even  the 
little  housemaid  Jeanne  is  charming  ;  says  to  me  every 
morning,  in  the  prettiest  voice  :  "  Madame  a-t-elle  bien 
•dormi  cette  nuit?" — puts  fire  in  my  chauffe-pied  without 
being  told — cleans  my  rooms  most  conscientiously. 
There — I  promise  to  weary  you  less  for  the  future  with 
my  descriptions.  I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
speak  gratefully  of  M.  and  Mme.  d'Albert. 

Give  my  love  to  Mrs.  Pears — my  constant,  ever-fresh 
remembrance.  My  love  to  Miss  Rebecca  Franklin — 
tell  her  I  have  only  spun  my  web  to  Geneva;  it  will 
infallibly  carry  me  back  again  across  the  gulf,  were  it 
twice  as  great.  If  Mr.  Froude  preach  the  new  word 
at  Manchester,  I  hope  he  will  preach  it  so  as  to  do 
without  an  after-explanation,  and  not  bewilder  his 
hearers  in  the  manner  of  Mephistopheles  when  he  dons 
the  doctor's  gown  of  Faust.  I  congratulate  you  on  the 
new  edition,1  and  promise  to  read  it  with  a  disposition 
to  admire  when  I  am  at  Rosehill  once  more.  I  am 
beginning  to  lose  respect  for  the  petty  acumen  that 
sees  difficulties.  I  love  the  souls  that  rush  along  to 
their  goal  with  a  full  stream  of  sentiment — that  have 
too  much  of  the  positive  to  be  harassed  by  the  per- 

1  "  Philosophy  of  Necessity,  "by  Charles  Bray. 


i849-l  Beauties  of  Scenery.  171 

petual  negatives — which,  after  all,  are  but  the  disease  Letter  to 
of  the  soul,  to  be  expelled  by  fortifying  the  principle  26th  Oct. 

r  i  •  X849- 

ol  vitality. 

Good-bye,  dear  loves;  sha'n't  I  kiss  you  when  I  am 
in  England  again  —  in  England!  I  already  begin  to 
think  of  the  journey  as  an  impossibility.  Geneva  is 
so  beautiful  now,  the  trees  have  their  richest  coloring. 
Coventry  is  a  fool  to  it — but,  then,  you  are  at  Coventry, 
and  you  are  better  than  lake,  trees,  and  mountains. 

We  have  had  some  delicious  autumn  days  here.     If  Letter  to 

*  the  Brays, 

the  fine  weather  last,  I  am  going  up  the  Saleve  on  ^th  Oct. 
Sunday  with  M.  d'Albert.  On  one  side  I  shall  have  a 
magnificent  view  of  the  lake,  the  town,  and  the  Jura ; 
on  the  other,  the  range  of  Mont  Blanc.  The  walks 
about  Geneva  are  perfectly  enchanting.  "  Ah  !"  says 
poor  Mlle.de  Phaisan,  "nous  avons  un  beau  pays  si 
nous  n'avions  pas  ces  Radicaux !"  The  election  of 
the  Conseil  d'etat  is  to  take  place  in  November,  and 
an  hnente  is  expected.  The  actual  government  is 
Radical,  and  thoroughly  detested  by  all  the  "  respect- 
able" classes.  The  vice-president  of  the  Conseil  and 
the  virtual  head  of  the  government  is  an  unprincipled, 
clever  fellow,  horribly  in  debt  himself,  and  on  the  way 
to  reduce  the  government  to  the  same  position. 

I  like  my  town-life  vastly.     I  shall  like  it  still  better  Letter  to 

J  Miss  Sara 

in  the  winter.     There  is  an  indescribable  charm  to  me  Henneii, 

28th  Oct. 

in  this  form  of  human  nest-making.  You  enter  a  by  1849- 
no  means  attractive-looking  house,  you  climb  up  two 
or  three  flights  of  cold,  dark-looking  stone  steps,  you 
ring  at  a  very  modest  door,  and  you  enter  a  set  of 
rooms,  snug,  or  comfortable,  or  elegant.  One  is  so  out 
of  reach  of  intruders,  so  undiverted  from  one's  occupa- 
tions by  externals,  so  free  from  cold,  rushing  winds 
through  hall  doors — one  feels  in  a  downy  nest  high  up 


172  Spinoza   Translations.  [GENEVA, 

Letter  to    in  a  good  old  tree.     I  have  always  had  a  hankering 

Miss  Sara  * 

Henneii,    after  this  sort  of  life,  and  I  find  it  was  a  true  instinct 

aSih  Oct. 

1849  of  what  would  suit  me.  Just  opposite  my  windows  is 
the  street  in  which  the  Sisters  of  Charity  live,  and,  if  I 
look  out,  I  generally  see  either  one  of  them  or  a  sober- 
looking  ecclesiastic.  Then  a  walk  of  five  minutes  takes 
me  out  of  all  streets,  within  sight  of  beauties  that  I  am 
sure  you  too  would  love,  if  you  did  not  share  my  en- 
thusiasm for  the  town.  I  have  not  another  minute, 
having  promised  to  go  out  before  dinner — so,  dearest, 
take  my  letter  as  a  hasty  kiss,  just  to  let  you  know  how 
constantly  I  love  you — how,  the  longer  I  live  and  the 
more  I  have  felt,  the  better  I  know  how  to  value  you. 
Charles0  ^  write  at  once  to  answer  your  questions  about  busi- 
ftha>Dec.  ness-  Spinoza  and  I  have  been  divorced  for  several 
months.  My  want  of  health  has  obliged  me  to  re- 
nounce all  application.  I  take  walks,  play  on  the  piano, 
read  Voltaire,  talk  to  my  friends,  and  just  take  a  dose  of 
mathematics  every  day  to  prevent  my  brain  from  be- 
coming quite  soft.  If  you  are  anxious  to  publish  the 
translation  in  question  I  could,  after  a  few  months, 
finish  the  "  Tractatus  Theologico-Politicus  "  to  keep  it 
company ;  but  I  confess  to  you  that  I  think  you  would 
do  better  to  abstain  from  printing  a  translation.  What 
is  wanted  in  English  is  not  a  translation  of  Spinoza's 
works,  but  a  true  estimate  of  his  life  and  system.  Af- 
ter one  has  rendered  his  Latin  faithfully  into  English, 
one  feels  that  there  is  another  yet  more  difficult  proc- 
ess of  translation  for  the  reader  to  effect,  and  that  the 
only  mode  of  making  Spinoza  accessible  to  a  larger 
number  is  to  study  his  books,  then  shut  them,  and  give 
an  analysis.  For  those  who  read  the  very  words 
Spinoza  wrote  there  is  the  same  sort  of  interest  in  his 
style  as  in  the  conversation  of  a  person  of  great  capaci- 


1849.]  Affection  to  the  D' Alberts.  173 

ty  who  has  led  a  solitary  life,  and  who  says  from  his  Letter  to 

J  '  .  Charles 

own  soul  what  all  the  world  is  saying  by  rote;  but  tn 
interest  hardly  belongs  to  a  translation. 

Your  letter  is  very  sweet  to  me,  giving  me  a  picture  Letter  to 
of  your  quiet  life.  How  shall  I  enable  you  to  imagine  4thDecay' 
mine,  since  you  know  nothing  of  the  localities?  My1 
good  friends  here  only  change  for  the  better.  Mme. 
d'Albert  is  all  affection  ;  M.  d'Albert  all  delicacy  and 
intelligence ;  the  friends  to  whom  they  have  intro- 
duced me  very  kind  in  their  attentions.  In  fact,  I  want 
nothing  but  a  little  more  money,  to  feel  more  at  ease 
about  my  fires,  etc.  I  am  in  an  atmosphere  of  love 
and  refinement ;  even  the  little  servant  Jeanne  seems 
to  love  me,  and  does  me  good  every  time  she  comes 
into  the  room.  I  can  say  anything  to  M.  and  Mme. 
d'Albert.  M.  d'A.  understands  everything,  and  if  ma- 
dame  does  not  understand,  she  believes — that  is,  she 
seems  always  sure  that  I  mean  something  edifying. 
She  kisses  me  like  a  mother,  and  I  am  baby  enough 
to  find  that  a  great  addition  to  my  happiness.  Au 
reste,  I  am  careful  for  nothing ;  I  am  a  sort  of  super- 
numerary spoon,  and  there  will  be  no  damage  to  the 
set  if  I  am  lost.  My  heart-ties  are  not  loosened  by 
distance — it  is  not  in  the  nature  of  ties  to  be  so  ;  and 
when  I  think  of  my  loved  ones  as  those  to  whom  I 
can  be  a  comforter,  a  help,  I  long  to  be  with  them 
again.  Otherwise,  I  can  only  think  with  a  shudder 
of  returning  to  England.  It  looks  to  me  like  a  land 
of  gloom,  of  ennui,  of  platitude ;  but  in  the  midst  of 
all  this  it  is  the  land  of  duty  and  affection,  and  the 
only  ardent  hope  I  have  for  my  future  life  is  to  have 
given  to  me  some  woman's  duty — some  possibility  of 
devoting  myself  where  I  may  see  a  daily  result  of  pure, 
calm  blessedness  in  the  life  of  another. 


174  Christmas  Wishes.  [GENEVA, 

Letter  to        How  do  you  look  ?     I  hope  th.it  bandeau  of  silvery 

Miss  Sara  r 

Hcnneii.    locks  is  not  widening  too  fast  on  the  head  I  love  so 

4th  Dec. 

1849-  well — that  the  eyes  are  as  bright  as  ever.  Your  let- 
ter tells  me  they  will  beam  as  kindly  as  ever  when 
I  see  them  once  more.  Never  make  apologies  about 
your  letters,  or  your  words,  or  anything  else.  It  is 
your  soul  to  which  I  am  wedded  ;  and  do  I  not  know 
too  well  how  the  soul  is  doubly  belied — first,  by  the 
impossibility  of  being  in  word  and  act  as  great,  as  lov- 
ing, as  good  as  it  wills  to  be  ;  and  again,  by  the  miser- 
able weaknesses  of  the  friends  who  see  the  words  and 
acts  through  all  sorts  of  mists  raised  by  their  own 
passions  and  preoccupations?  In  all  these  matters 
I  am  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  I  am  tempted  to  rejoice 
in  the  offences  of  my  friends,  because  they  make  me 
feel  less  humiliation.  I  am  quite  satisfied  to  be  at 
Geneva  instead  of  Paris ;  in  fact,  I  am  becoming  pas- 
sionately attached  to  the  mountains,  the  lake,  the 
streets,  my  own  room,  and,  above  all,  the  dear  people 
with  whom  I  live. 

Letter  to        A  thousand  Christmas  pleasures  and  blessings  to 

the  Brays, 

zsd  Dec.    you — good  resolutions  and  bright  hopes  for  the  New 
1849* 

Year !      Amen.      People   who    can't   be    witty    exert 

themselves  to  be  pious  or  affectionate.  Henceforth  I 
tell  you  nothing  whatever  about  myself;  for  if  I  speak 
of  agreeables,  and  say  I  am  contented,  Mr.  Bray 
writes  me  word  that  you  are  all  trying  to  forget  me. 
If  I  were  to  tell  you  of  disagreeables  and  privations 
and  sadness,  Sara  would  write :  "  If  you  are  unhappy 
now,  you  will  be  so  d  fortiori  ten  years  hence."  Now, 
since  I  have  a  decided  objection  to  doses  sent  by 
post  which  upset  one's  digestion  for  a  fortnight,  I  am 
determined  to  give  you  no  pretext  for  sending  them. 
You  shall  not  know  whether  I  am  well  or  ill,  con- 


1850.]  Professeur  dc  la  Rives  Lectures.  175 
tented  or  discontented,  warm  or  cold,  fat  or  thin.  But  Letter  to 

the  Brays, 

remember  that  I  am  so  far  from  being  of  the  same  ^3d  Dec. 

1849. 
mind  as  Mr.  Bray,  that  good  news  of  you  is  necessary 

to  my  comfort.  I  walk  more  briskly,  and  jump  out  of 
bed  more  promptly,  after  a  letter  that  tells  me  you  are 
well  and  comfortable,  that  business  is  promising,  that 
men  begin  to  speak  well  of  you,  etc.  "  I  am  com- 
forted in  your  comfort,"  as  saith  St.  Paul  to  the  troub- 
lesome Corinthians.  When  one  is  cabined,  cribbed, 
confined  in  one's  self,  it  is  good  to  be  enlarged  in 
one's  friends.  Good  Mr.  Marshall !  We  wish  to  keep 
even  unamiable  people  when  death  calls  for  them, 
much  more  good  souls  like  him.  I  am  glad  he  had 
had  one  more  pleasant  visit  to  Cara  for  her  to  think 
of.  Dear  Sara's  letter  is  very  charming — not  at  all 
physicky — rather  an  agreeable  draught  of  vin  sucrk. 
Dear  Mr.  Hennell,  we  shall  never  look  upon  his  like. 

I  am  attending  a  course  of  lectures  on  Experimental 
Physics  by  M.  le  Professeur  de  la  Rive,  the  inven- 
tor, among  other  things,  of  electroplating.  The  lect- 
ures occur  every  Wednesday  and  Saturday.  It  is 
time  for  me  to  go.  I  am  distressed  to  send  you  this 
shabby  last  fragment  of  paper,  and  to  write  in  such  a 
hurry,  but  the  days  are  really  only  two  hours  long,  and 
I  have  so  many  things  to  do  that  I  go  to  bed  every 
night  miserable  because  I  have  left  out  something  I 
meant  to  do.  Good-bye,  dear  souls.  Forget  me  if 
you  like,  you  cannot  oblige  me  to  forget  you  ;  and  the 
active  is  worth  twice  of  the  passive  all  the  world  over ! 
The  earth  is  covered  with  snow,  and  the  government 
is  levelling  the  fortifications. 

You  leave  me  a  long  time  without  news  of  you,  Letter  to 
though  I  told  you  they  were  necessary  as  a  counter-  2sth  jan?1 
active  to  the  horrors  of  this  terrible  winter.     Are  you  '  ; 


176  Severe  Winter — Alboni.          [GENEVA, 

Letter  to    really  so  occupied  as  to  have  absolutely  no  time  to 

the  Brays, 

isih  Jan.  think  of  me  ?  I  console  myself,  at  least  to-day,  now 
we  have  a  blue  sky  once  more  after  two  months  of 
mist,  with  thinking  that  I  am  excluded  by  pleasanter 
ideas — that  at  least  you  are  well  and  comfortable,  and 
I  ought  to  content  myself  with  that.  The  fact  is,  I 
am  much  of  Touchstone's  mind — in  respect  my  life  is 
at  Geneva,  I  like  it  very  well,  but  in  respect  it  is  not 
with  you,  it  is  a  very  vile  life.  I  have  no  yearnings  to 
exchange  lake  and  mountains  for  Bishop  Street  and 
the  Radford  Fields,  but  I  have  a  great  yearning  to 
kiss  you  all  and  talk  to  you  for  three  days  running. 
I  do  not  think  it  will  be  possible  for  me  to  undertake 
the  journey  before  the  end  of  March.  I  look  forward 
to  it  with  great  dread.  I  see  myself  looking  utterly 
miserable,  ready  to  leave  all  my  luggage  behind  me  at 
Paris  for  the  sake  of  escaping  the  trouble  of  it.  We 
have  had  Alboni  here — a  very  fat  siren.  There  has 
been  some  capital  acting  of  comedies  by  friends  of 
M.  d' Albert— one  of  them  is  superior  to  any  profes- 
sional actor  of  comedy  I  have  ever  seen.  He  reads 
vaudevilles  so  marvellously  that  one  seems  to  have  a 
whole  troupe  of  actors  before  one  in  his  single  per- 
son. He  is  a  handsome  man  of  fifty,  full  of  wit  and 
talent,  and  he  married  about  a  year  ago. 
etter  It  is  one  of  the  provoking  contrarieties  of  destiny 

ouston,  that  I  should  have  written  my  croaking  letter  when 

h  Feb.  J 

5°-  your  own  kind,  consolatory  one  was  on  its  way  to  me. 
I  have  been  happier  ever  since  it  came.  After  mourn- 
ing two  or  three  months  over  Chrissey's  account  of 
your  troubles,  I  can  only  dwell  on  that  part  of  your 
letter  which  tells  that  there  is  a  little  more  blue  in  your 
sky — that  you  have  faith  in  the  coming  spring.  Shall 
you  be  as  glad  to  see  me  as  to  hear  the  cuckoo?  I 


1850.]  Yearning  for  Old  Friends.  177 

mean  to  return  to  England  as  soon  as  the  Jura  is  Letter 
passable  without  sledges — probably  the  end  of  March  Houghton, 
or  beginning  of  April.  I  have  a  little  Heimweh  "  as  it  1850. 
regards "  my  friends.  I  yearn  to  see  those  I  have 
loved  the  longest,  but  I  shall  feel  real  grief  at  parting 
from  the  excellent  people  with  whom  I  am  living.  I 
feel  they  are  my  friends ;  without  entering  into  or  even 
knowing  the  greater  part  of  my  views,  they  understand 
my  character  and  have  a  real  interest  in  me.  I  have 
infinite  tenderness  from  Mme.  d'Albert.  I  call  her  al- 
ways "  maman  ;"  and  she  is  just  the  creature  one  loves 
to  lean  on  and  be  petted  by.  In  fact,  I  am  too  much 
indulged,  and  shall  go  back  to  England  as  undisci- 
plined as  ever.  This  terribly  severe  winter  has  been  a 
drawback  on  my  recovering  my  strength.  I  have  lost 
whole  weeks  from  headache,  etc.,  but  I  am  certainly 
better  now  than  when  I  came  to  Mme.  d'Albert.  You 
tell  me  to  give  you  these  details,  so  I  obey.  Decided- 
ly England  is  the  most  comfortable  country  to  be  in 
in  winter — at  least,  for  all  except  those  who  are  rich 
enough  to  buy  English  comforts  everywhere.  I  hate 
myself  for  caring  about  carpets,  easy-chairs,  and  coal 
fires — one's  soul  is  under  a  curse,  and  can  preach  no 
truth  while  one  is  in  bondage  to  the  flesh  in  this  way ; 
but,  alas  !  habit  is  the  purgatory  in  which  we  suffer  for 
our  past  sins.  I  hear  much  music.  We  have  a  re- 
union of  musical  friends  every  Monday.  For  the  rest, 
I  have  refused  soirees,  which  are  as  stupid  and  unprofit- 
able at  Geneva  as  in  England.  I  save  all  more  inter- 
esting details,  that  I  may  have  them  to  tell  you  when 
I  am  with  you.  I  am  going  now  to  a  seance  on  Ex- 
perimental Physics  by  the  celebrated  Professor  de  la 
Rive.  This  letter  will  at  least  convince  you  that  I  am 
not  eaten  up  by  wolves,  as  they  have  been  fearing  at 
8* 


178  Snow  on  the  Jura.  [GENEVA, 

Letter       Rosehill.     The  English  papers  tell  of  wolves  descend- 
to  Mrs. 

HouR'1'011.  ing  from  the  Jura  and  devouring  the  inhabitants  of  the 
1850.        villages,  but  we  have  been  in  happy  ignorance  of  these 

editors*  horrors. 

theBnTs.  ^ vou  saw  tnc  Jura  to'dav  !  The  snow  reveals  its 
!»sa  forests,  ravines,  and  precipices,  and  it  stands  in  relief 
against  a  pure  blue  sky.  The  snow  is  on  the  moun- 
tains only,  now,  and  one  is  tempted  to  walk  all  day, 
particularly  when  one  lies  in  bed  till  ten,  as  your  ex- 
emplary friend  sometimes  does.  I  have  had  no  dis- 
cipline, and  shall  return  to  you  more  of  a  spoiled  child 
than  ever.  Indeed,  I  think  I  am  destined  to  be  so  to 
the  end — one  of  the  odious  swarm  of  voracious  cater- 
pillars soon  to  be  swept  away  from  the  earth  by  a  tem- 
pest. I  am  getting  better  bodily.  I  have  much  less 
headache,  but  the  least  excitement  fatigues  me.  Cer- 
tainly, if  one  cannot  have  a  malady  to  carry  one  off 
rapidly,  the  only  sensible  thing  is  to  get  well  and  fat; 
and  I  believe  I  shall  be  driven  to  that  alternative. 
You  know  that  George  Sand  writes  for  the  theatre  ? 
Her  "  Francois  le  Champi — une  Come'die,"  is  simplic- 
ity and  purity  itself.  The  seven  devils  are  cast  out. 
We  are  going  to  have  more  acting  here  on  Wednesday. 
M.  Chamel's  talent  makes  maman's  soirees  quite 
brilliant.  You  will  be  amused  to  hear  that  I  am  sit- 
ting for  my  portrait  —  at  M.  d' Albert's  request,  not 
mine.  If  it  turns  out  well,  I  shall  long  to  steal  it  to 
give  to  you ;  but  M.  d'Albert  talks  of  painting  a  sec- 
ond, and  in  that  case  I  shall  certainly  beg  one.  The 
idea  of  making  a  study  of  my  visage  is  droll  enough. 
I  have  the  kindest  possible  letters  from  my  brother 
and  sisters,  promising  me  the  warmest  welcome.  This 
helps  to  give  me  courage  for  the  journey;  but  the 
strongest  magnet  of  all  is  a  certain  little  group  of  three 


1850.]  Last  Days  at  Geneva.  179 

persons  whom  I  hope  to  find  together  at  Rosehill.  Letter  to 

1     .  the  Brays, 

Something  has  been  said  of  M.  d'Albert  accompanying  J5th  Feb. 

1850. 
me  to  Paris.     I  am  saddened  when  I  think  of  all  the 

horrible  anxieties  of  trade.  If  I  had  children,  I  would 
make  them  carpenters  and  shoemakers;  that  is  the 
way  to  make  them  Messiahs  and  Jacob  Boehms.  As 
for  us,  who  are  dependent  on  carpets  and  easy-chairs, 
we  are  reprobates,  and  shall  never  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  heaven.  I  go  to  the  Genevese  churches  every 
Sunday,  and  nourish  my  heterodoxy  with  orthodox 
sermons.  However,  there  are  some  clever  men  here 
in  the  Church,  and  I  am  fortunate  in  being  here  at  a 
time  when  the  very  cleverest  is  giving  a  series  of  con- 
ferences. I  think  I  have  never  told  you  that  we  have 
a  long  German  lad  of  seventeen  in  the  house — the  most 
taciturn  and  awkward  of  lads.  He  said  very  naively, 
when  I  reproached  him  for  not  talking  to  a  German 
young  lady  at  a  soirfo,  when  he  was  seated  next  her  at 
table — "  Je  ne  savais  que  faire  cle  mes  jambes."  They 
had  placed  the  poor  garfon  against  one  of  those  card- 
tables — all  legs,  like  himself. 

The  weather  is  so  glorious  that  I  think  I  may  set  Letter  to 

-  the  Brays, 

out  on  my  journey  soon  after  the  15111.  I  am  not  ist  March, 
quite  certain  yet  that  M.  d'Albert  will  not  be  able  to '  : 
accompany  me  to  Paris ;  in  any  case,  a  package  of  so 
little  value  will  get  along  safely  enough.  I  am  so  ex- 
cited at  the  idea  of  the  time  being  so  near  when  I  am 
to  leave  Geneva — a  real  grief — and  see  my  friends  in 
England  —  a  perfectly  overwhelming  joy  —  that  I  can 
do  nothing.  I  am  frightened  to  think  what  an  idle 
wretch  I  am  become.  And  you  all  do  not  write  me 
one  word  to  tell  me  you  long  for  me.  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  elope  to  Constantinople,  and  never  see  any 
one  any  more ! 


i8o  Summary  of  Chapter  IV.         [GENEVA. 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that  we  take  leave 
of  the  pleasant  town  of  Geneva,  its  lake  and  moun- 
tains, and  its  agreeable  little  circle  of  acquaintance. 
It  was  a  peacefully  happy  episode  in  George  Eliot's 
life,  and  one  she  was  always  fond  of  recurring  to, 
in  our  talk,  up  to  the  end  of  her  life. 


SUMMARY. 

JUNE,  1849,  TO  MARCH,  1850. 

Goes  abroad  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray — Geneva — Life  at  Cam- 
pagne  Plongeon — Letters  to  Brays  describing  surroundings — Mrs. 
Locke — The  St.  Germain  family — Anxiety  about  her  boxes  with 
books,  etc.— Hears  M.  Meunier  preach — Patriotism  the  first  of 
virtues — Mme.  Cornelius — Mme.  de  Ludwigsdorff — "F$te  of  Navi- 
gation" on  the  lake — Demand  for  letters — Prophetic  anticipation 
of  position  seven  years  later — Wishes  to  sell  some  of  her  books 
and  globes  to  get  music  lessons — Letter  to  Mrs.  Houghton — Loss 
of  Mrs.  Clarke's  child — Love  of  Lake  of  Geneva — Letters  to  Brays 
— Mme.  LudwigsdorfF  wishes  her  to  spend  winter  in  Paris — Mile, 
de  Phaisan — Finds  apartment  in  Geneva,  No.  107  Rue  des  Cha- 
noines,  with  M.  and  Mme.  d' Albert — Enjoyment  of  their  society — 
Remarks  on  translations  of  Spinoza — Hope  of  a  woman's  duty — 
Attachment  to  Geneva — Yearning  for  friends  at  home — Alboni — 
Private  theatricals — Portrait  by  M.  d'Albert — Remarks  on  educa- 
tion of  children — Leaves  Geneva  by  Jura. 


CHAPTER  V. 

M.  D'ALBERT  and  his  charge  left  Geneva  towards 
the  end  of  March,  and  as  the  railway  was  not  yet 
opened  all  the  way  to  France,  they  had  to  cross 
the  Jura  in  sledges,  and  suffered  terribly  from  the 
cold.  They  joined  the  railway  at  Tonnerre,  and 
came  through  Paris,  arriving  in  England  on  the 
230!  of  March.  After  a  day  in  London,  Miss  Evans 
went  straight  to  her  friends  at  Rosehill,  where  she 
stayed  for  a  few  days  before  going  on  to  Griff.  It 
will  have  been  seen  that  she  had  set  her  hopes  high 
on  the  delights  of  home-coming,  and  with  her  too 
sensitive,  impressionable  nature,  it  is  not  difficult 
to  understand,  without  attributing  blame  to  any 
one,  that  she  was  pretty  sure  to  be  laying  up  dis- 
appointment for  herself.  All  who  have  had  the 
experience  of  returning  from  a  bright,  sunny  climate 
to  England  in  March  will  recognize  in  the  next  let- 
ters the  actual  presence  of  the  east  wind,  the  leaden 
sky,  the  gritty  dust,  and  le  spleen. 

No;  I  am  not  in  England — I  am  only  nearer  the  be- Letter  to 
ings  I  love  best.     I  try  to  forget  all  geography,  and  Henneii, 

that  I  have  placed  myself  irretrievably  out  of  reach  of  Mch.  185-, 
....  ,  ,  .         .  from  Rose- 

nature  s  brightest  glories  and  beauties  to  shiver  in  ahm. 

wintry  flat.  I  am  unspeakably  grateful  to  find  these 
dear  creatures  looking  well  and  happy,  in  spite  of 
worldly  cares,  but  your  dear  face  and  voice  are  want- 
ing to  me.  But  I  must  wait  with  patience,  and  per- 
haps by  the  time  I  have  finished  my  visits  to  my  rela- 


1 82  Return  to  England.  [ROSEHII.L. 

Letter  to    tions  you  will  be  ready  to  come  to  Rosehill  again.     I 

•^ra  *  u  j          i  •  ,1 

Henneii,    want  you  to  scold  me,  and  make  me  good.     I  am  idle 

end  of  ' 

Mch.  1850,  and  naughty — on  tie  pent  plus — sinking  into  heathenish 

from  Rose-  .  '  ...... 

hUL          ignorance  and  woman  s  frivolity.     Remember,  you  are 

one  of  my  guardian  angels. 
Letter  to        Will  you  send  the  enclosed  note  to  Mrs.  C.  Hennell  ? 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,     I  am  not  quite  sure  about  her  direction,  but  I  am  anx- 

begmmng 

of  April,     ious  to  thank  her  for  her  kindness  in  inviting  me.    Will 

1850,  from 

Griff.  yOu  aiso  send  me  an  account  of  Mr.  Chapman's  prices 
for  lodgers,  and  if  you  know  anything  of  other  board- 
ing-houses, etc.,  in  London  ?  Will  you  tell  me  what 
you  can  ?  I  am  not  asking  you  merely  for  the  sake  of 
giving  you  trouble.  I  am  really  anxious  to  know.  Oh, 
the  dismal  weather  and  the  dismal  country  and  the 
dismal  people.  It  was  some  envious  demon  that  drove 
me  across  the  Jura.  However,  I  am  determined  to 
sell  everything  I  possess,  except  a  portmanteau  and 
carpet-bag  and  the  necessary  contents,  and  be  a  stran- 
ger and  a  foreigner  on  the  earth  for  evermore  But  I 
must  see  you  first ;  that  is  a  yearning  I  still  have  in 
spite  of  disappointments. 

From  Griff  she  went  to  stay  with  her  sister,  Mrs. 
Clarke,  at  Meriden,  whence  she  writes  : 

MrsteBra    ^ave  you  anv  engagement  for  the  week  after  next  ? 

ifo  Apri1'  ^  not'  may  I  Jom  y°u  on  Saturday  the  4th,  and  invite 
M.  d'Albert  to  come  down  on  the  following  Monday  ? 
It  appears  he  cannot  stay  in  England  longer  than  un- 
til about  the  second  week  in  May.  I  am  uncomfort- 
able at  the  idea  of  burdening  even  your  friendship 
with  the  entertainment  of  a  person  purely  for  my  sake. 
It  is  indeed  the  greatest  of  all  the  great  kindnesses 
you  have  shown  me.  Write  me  two  or  three  kind 
words,  dear  Cara.  I  have  been  so  ill  at  ease  ever 
since  I  have  been  in  England  that  I  am  quite  dis- 


1851.]    Mackay's  "Progress  of  the  Intellect"      183 

couraged.  Dear  Chrissey  is  generous  and  sympathiz- 
ing, and  really  cares  for  my  happiness. 

On  the  4th  of  May  Miss  Evans  went  to  Rosehill, 
and  on  the  yth  M.  d'Albert  joined  the  party  for  a 
three  days'  visit.  The  strong  affection  existing  be- 
tween Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bray  and  their  guest,  and  the 
more  congenial  intellectual  atmosphere  surround- 
ing them,  led  Miss  Evans  to  make  her  home  prac- 
tically at  Rosehill  for  the  next  sixteen  months. 
She  stayed  there  continuously  till  the  i8th  Novem- 
ber, and,  among  other  things,  wrote  a  review  of 
Mackay's  "Progress  of  the  Intellect."  In  October 
Mr.  Mackay  and  Mr.  Chapman,  the  editor  of  the 
Westminster  Review,  came  to  stay  at  Rosehill,  and 
there  was  probably  some  talk  then  about  her  as- 
sisting in  the  editorial  work  of  the  Review,  but  it 
was  not  until  the  following  spring  that  any  defi- 
nite understanding  on  this  subject  was  arrived  at. 
Meantime  the  article  on  Mackay's  "  Progress  of 
the  Intellect"  came  out  in  the  January,  1851,  num- 
ber of  the  Westminster.  It  contains  the  following 
remarkable  passages : 

"  Our  civilization,  and  yet  more,  our  religion,  are  an 
anomalous  blending  of  lifeless  barbarisms,  which  have 
descended  to  us  like  so  many  petrifactions  from  dis- 
tant ages,  with  living  ideas,  the  offspring  of  a  true  proc- 
ess of  development.  We  are  in  bondage  to  terms 
and  conceptions,  which,  having  had  their  roots  in  con- 
ditions of  thought  no  longer  existing,  have  ceased  to 
possess  any  vitality,  and  are  for  us  as  spells  which  have 
lost  their  virtue.  The  endeavor  to  spread  enlightened 
ideas  is  perpetually  counteracted  by  these  idola  theatri, 
which  have  allied  themselves,  on  the  one  hand,  with 
men's  better  sentiments,  and,  on  the  other,  with  institu- 


184  Reviews  Mackays  ^  Progress  of  the  [ROSEHILI, 

tions  in  whose  defence  are  arrayed  the  passions  and 
the  interests  of  dominant  classes.  Now,  although  the 
teaching  of  positive  truth  is  the  grand  means  of  ex- 
pelling error,  the  process  will  be  very  much  quickened 
if  the  negative  argument  serve  as  its  pioneer;  if,  by  a 
survey  of  the  past,  it  can  be  shown  how  each  age  and 
each  race  has  had  a  faith  and  a  symbolism  suited  to 
its  need  and  its  stage  of  development,  and  that  for  suc- 
ceeding ages  to  dream  of  retaining  the  spirit,  along 
with  the  forms,  of  the  past,  is  as  futile  as  the  embalm- 
ing of  the  dead  body  in  the  hope  that  it  may  one  clay 
be  resumed  by  the  living  soul.  ...  It  is  Mr.  Mackay's 
faith  that  divine  revelation  is  not  contained  exclusive- 
ly or  pre-eminently  in  the  facts  and  inspirations  of  any 
one  age  or  nation,  but  is  coextensive  with  the  history 
of  human  development,  and  is  perpetually  unfolding 
itself  to  our  widened  experience  and  investigation,  as 
firmament  upon  firmament  becomes  visible  to  us  in 
proportion  to  the  power  and  range  of  our  exploring-in- 
struments.  The  master-key  to  this  revelation  is  the 
recognition  of  the  presence  of  undeviating  law  in  the 
material  and  moral  world — of  that  invariability  of  se- 
quence which  is  acknowledged  to  be  the  basis  of  phys- 
ical science,  but  which  is  still  perversely  ignored  in 
our  social  organization,  our  ethics,  and  our  religion. 
It  is  this  invariability  of  sequence  which  can  alone  give 
value  to  experience,  and  render  education,  in  the  true 
sense,  possible.  The  divine  yea  and  nay,  the  seal  of 
prohibition  and  of  sanction,  are  effectually  impressed 
on  human  deeds  and  aspirations,  not  by  means  of 
Greek  and  Hebrew,  but  by  that  inexorable  law  of  con- 
sequences whose  evidence  is  confirmed  instead  of 
weakened  as  the  ages  advance ;  and  human  duty  is 
comprised  in  the  earnest  study  of  this  law  and  patient 


1851.]        Intellect"  in  the  "Westminster"          185 

obedience  to  its  teaching.  While  this  belief  sheds  a 
bright  beam  of  promise  on  the  future  career  of  our 
race,  it  lights  up  what  once  seemed  the  dreariest  re- 
gion of  history  with  new  interest;  every  past  phase  of 
human  development  is  part  of  that  education  of  the 
race  in  which  we  are  sharing;  every  mistake,  every  ab- 
surdity, into  which  poor  human  nature  has  fallen,  may 
be  looked  on  as  an  experiment  of  which  we  may  reap 
the  benefit.  A  correct  generalization  gives  signifi- 
cance to  the  smallest  detail,  just  as  the  great  induc- 
tions of  geology  demonstrate  in  every  pebble  the  work- 
ing of  laws  by  which  the  earth  has  become  adapted 
for  the  habitation  of  man.  In  this  view  religion  and 
philosophy  are  not  merely  conciliated,  they  are  identi- 
cal ;  or,  rather,  religion  is  the  crown  and  consumma- 
tion of  philosophy — the  delicate  corolla  which  can  only 
spread  out  its  petals  in  all  their  symmetry  and  brill- 
iance to  the  sun  when  root  and  branch  exhibit  the 
conditions  of  a  healthy  and  vigorous  life." 

Miss  Evans  seems  to  have  been  in  London  from 
the  beginning  of  January  till  the  end  of  March, 
1851 ;  and  Mr.  Chapman  made  another  fortnight's 
visit  to  Rosehill  at  the  end  of  May  and  beginning 
of  June.     It  was  during  this  period  that,  with  Miss 
Evans's  assistance,  the  prospectus  of  the  new  series 
of  the  Westminster  Review  was  determined  on  and 
put  in  shape.    At  the  end  of  July  she  went  with  Mrs. 
Bray  to  visit  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  Noel,  at  Bishop 
Steignton,  in  Devonshire.      Mrs.  Bray   had   some 
slight  illness  there,  and  Miss  Evans  writes : 
I  am  grieved  indeed  if  anything  might  have  been  writ-  Letter  to 
ten,  which  has  not  been  written,  to  allay  your  anxiety  H£n"e11' 
about  Cara.     Her  letter  yesterday  explained  what  has  "851- 
been  the  matter.     I  knew  her  own  handwriting  would 


1 86  Assistant  Editor  of"  Westminster"  [142  STRAND, 
Letter  to    be  pleasanter  to  you  than  any  other.     I  have  been 

Miss  Sara  J 

Henneii,  talking  to  her  this  morning  about  the  going  to  London 
1851.  or  to  Rosehill.  She  seems  to  prefer  London.  A  glance 
or  two  at  the  Exposition,  she  thinks,  would  do  her  no 
harm.  To-day  we  are  all  going  to  Teignmotith,  She 
seems  to  like  the  idea  of  sitting  by  the  waves.  The 
sun  is  shining  gloriously,  and  all  things  are  tolerably 
promising.  I  am  going  to  walk  on  before  the  rest  and 
have  a  bath. 

They  went  to  London  on  the  i3th  of  August,  saw 
the  Crystal  Palace,  and  returned  to  Rosehill  on  the 
i6th.  At  the  end  of  that  month,  Mr.  George  Combe 
(the  distinguished  phrenologist)  arrived  on  a  visit, 
and  he  and  Mrs.  Combe  became  good  friends  to 
Miss  Evans,  as  will  be  seen  from  the  subsequent 
correspondence.  They  came  on  a  second  visit  to 
Rosehill  the  following  month — Mr.  Chapman  being 
also  in  the  house  at  the  same  time — and  at  the 
end  of  September  Miss  Evans  went  to  stay  with  the 
Chapmans  at  No.  142  Strand,  as  a  boarder,  and  as 
assistant  editor  of  the  V/estminster  Review.  Anew 
period  now  opens  in  George  Eliot's  life,  and  em- 
phatically the  most  important  period,  for  now  she 
is  to  be  thrown  in  contact  with  Mr.  Lewes,  who  is 
to  exercise  so  paramount  an  influence  on  all  her 
future,  with  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  and  with  a  num- 
ber of  writers  then  represenf:ng  the  most  fearless 
and  advanced  thought  of  the  day.  Miss  Frederica 
Bremer,  the  authoress,  was  also  boarding  with  the 
Chapmans  at  this  time,  as  will  be  seen  from  the 
following  letters : 
Letter  to  Mr.  Mackay  has  been  very  kind  in  coming  and  walk- 

the  Brays,    .  /  .     .          .  . 

end  of       ing  out  with  me,  and  that  is  the  only  variety  I  have 

Sept.  1851. 

had.    Last  night,  however,  we  had  an  agreeable  enough 


1851.]  Meets  Herbert  Spencer.  187 

gathering.     Foxton  '  came,  who,  you  know,  is  trying,  Letter  to 
with  Carlyle  and  others,  to  get  a  chapel  for  Wilson  at?,»dof 

Sept.  1851. 

the  West  End — in  which  he  is  to  figure  as  a  seceding 
clergyman.  I  enclose  you  two  notes  from  Empson  (he 
is  the  editor  of  the  Edinburgh  Revieuf)  as  a  guarantee 
that  I  have  been  trying  to  work.  Again,  I  proposed 
to  write  a  review  of  Greg  for  the  Westminster,  not  for 
money,  but  for  love  of  the  subject  as  connected  with  the 
"  Inquiry."  Mr.  Hickson  referred  the  matter  to  Slack 
again,  and  he  writes  that  he  shall  not  have  room  for  it, 
and  that  the  subject  will  not  suit  on  this  occasion,  so 
you  see  I  am  obliged  to  be  idle,  and  I  like  it  best.  I 
hope  Mr.  Bray  is  coming  soon  to  tell  me  everything 
about  you.  I  think  I  shall  cry  for  joy  to  see  him. 
But  do  send  me  a  little  note  on  Monday  morning. 
Mrs.  Follen  called  the  other  day,  in  extreme  horror  at 
Miss  Martineau's  book. 

Dr.  Brabant  returned  to  Bath  yesterday.     He  very  Letter  to 

*  '  Mr.  Bray, 

politely  took  me  to  the  Crystal  Palace,  the  theatre,  and  end  of 

J  Sept.  1851. 

the  Overland  Route.  On  Friday  we  had  Foxton,  Wil- 
son, and  some  other  nice  people,  among  others  a  Mr. 
Herbert  Spencer,  who  has  just  brought  out  a  large 
work  on  "  Social  Statics,"  which  Lewes  pronounces  the 
best  book  he  has  seen  on  the  subject.  You  must  see 
the  book,  if  possible.  Mr.  Chapman  is  going  to  send 
you  Miss  Martineau's  work,  or  rather  Mr.  Atkinson's,2 
which  you  must  review  in  the  Herald.  Whatever  else 
one  may  think  of  the  book,  it  is  certainly  the  boldest 
I  l>ave  seen  in  the  English  language.  I  get  nothing 
done  here,  there  are  so  many  distractions — moreover,  I 

1  Frederick  Foxton,  author  of  "  Popular  Christianity :  its  Tran- 
sition .State  and  Probable  Development." 
5  "Man's  Nature  and  Development,"  by  Martineau  andAtkin- 


1 88  George  Henry  Lewes,      [142  STRAND, 

Letter  to    have  hardly  been  well  a  day  since  I  came.     I  wish  I 

Mr.  Bray,  *  J 

end  of       were  rich  enough  to  go  to  the  coast,  and  have  some 

Sept.  1851. 

plunges  in  the  sea  to  brace  me.  Nevertheless  do  not 
suppose  that  I  don't  enjoy  being  here.  I  like  seeing 
the  new  people,  etc.,  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall  think  the 
country  rather  dull  after  it.  I  am  in  a  hurry  to-day. 
I  must  have  two  hours'  work  before  dinner,  so  imagine 
everything  I  have  not  said,  or,  rather,  reflect  that  this 
scrap  is  quite  as  much  as  you  deserve  after  being  so 
slow  to  write  to  me. 

The  reference,  in  the  above  letter,  to  Mr.  Lewes 
must  not  be  taken  as  indicating  personal  acquaint- 
ance yet.  It  is  only  a  quotation  of  some  opinion 
heard  or  read.  Mr.  Lewes  had  already  secured  for 
himself  a  wide  reputation  in  the  literary  world  by 
his  "  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,"  his  two 
novels, "  Ranthorpe,"  and  "  Rose,  Blanche,  and  Vio- 
let"— all  of  which  had  been  published  five  or  six 
years  before — and  his  voluminous  contributions  to 
the  periodical  literature  of  the  day.  He  was  also,  at 
this  time,  the  literary  editor  of  the  Leader  newspaper, 
so  that  any  criticism  of  his  would  carry  weight,  and 
be  talked  about.  Much  has  already  been  written 
about  his  extraordinary  versatility,  the  variety  of 
his  literary  productions,  his  social  charms,  his  talent 
as  a  raconteur,  and  his  dramatic  faculty ;  and  it  will 
now  be  interesting,  for  those  who  did  not  know  him 
personally,  to  learn  the  deeper  side  of  his  char- 
acter, which  will  be  seen,  in  its  development,  in  the 
following  pages. 
Letter  to  I  don't  know  how  long  Miss  Bremer  will  stay,  but  you 

Mr.  Bray,  "       ,     J 

end  of       need  not  wish  to  see  her.     She  is  to  me  equally  un- 

Septi8Si.  . 

prepossessing  to  eye  and  ear.  I  never  saw  a  person 
of  her  years  who  appealed  less  to  my  purely  instinctive 


1851.]  Article  Writers.  189 

veneration.     I  have  to  reflect  every  time  I  look  at  her  fetter  to 

Mr.  Bray, 

that  she  is  really  Frederica  Bremer.  end  of 

Sept.  1851. 

Fox  is  to  write  the  article  on  the  Suffrage,  and  we 
are  going  to  try  Carlyle  for  the  Peerage,  Ward  refusing, 
on  the  ground  that  he  thinks  the  improvement  of  the 
physical  condition  of  the  people  so  all-important  that 
he  must  give  all  his  energies  to  that.  He  says,  "  Life 
is  a  bad  business,  but  we  must  make  the  best  of  it ;" 
to  which  philosophy  I  say  Amen.  Dr.  Hodgson  is 
gone,  and  all  the  fun  with  him. 

I  was  introduced  to  Lewes  the  other  day  in  Jeff's 
shop — a  sort  of  miniature  Mirabeau  in  appearance.  * 

Professor  Forbes  is  to  write  us  a  capital  scientific  Letter  to 

the  Brays, 

article,  whereat  I  rejoice  greatly.  The  Peerage  appar- 2d  Oct. 
ently  will  not  "get  itself  done,"  as  Carlyle  says.  It  is 
not  an  urgent  question,  nor  does  one  see  that,  if  the 
undue  influence  of  the  Peers  on  the  elections  for  the 
Commons  were  done  away  with,  there  would  be  much 
mischief  from  the  House  of  Lords  remaining  for  some 
time  longer  in  statu  quo.  I  have  been  reading  Carlyle's 
"  Life  of  Sterling  "  with  great  pleasure — not  for  its  pres- 
entation of  Sterling,  but  of  Carlyle.  There  are  racy 
bits  of  description  in  his  best  manner,  and  exquisite 
touches  of  feeling.  Little  rapid  characterizations  of 
living  men  too — of  Francis  Newman,  for  example — "  a 
man  of  fine  university  and  other  attainments,  of  the 
sharpest  cutting  and  most  restlessly  advancing  intel- 
lect, and  of  the  mildest  pious  enthusiasm."  There  is 
an  inimitable  description  of  Coleridge  and  his  eternal 
monologue — "  To  sit  as  a  passive  bucket  and  be 

1  This  was  a  merely  formal  and  casual  introduction.  That 
George  Eliot  was  ever  brought  into  close  relations  with  Mr. 
Lewes  was  due  to  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  having  taken  him  to  call 
on  her  in  the  Strand  later  in  this  year. 


igo  The  Chapmans*  Soirdes.      [142  STRAND, 

pumped  into,  whether  one  like  it  or  not,  can  in  the  end 
be  exhilarating  to  no  creature." 
Letter  to        All  the  world  is  doing  its  devoir  to  the  great  little 

Miss  Sara 

"tToct  autnoress  (Miss  Bremer).  I  went  to  the  exhibition  on 
I8s'  Saturday  to  hear  the  final  "  God  save  the  Queen  "  and 
the  three  times  three — "  C'etait  un  beau  moment." 
Mr.  Greg  thought  the  review  "  well  done,  and  in  a 
kindly  spirit,"  but  thought  there  was  not  much  in  it — 
dreadfully  *rue,  since  there  was  only  all  his  book.  I 
think  he  did  not  like  the  apology  for  his  want  of  theo- 
logical learning,  which,  however,  was  just  the  thing 
most  needed,  for  the  Eclectic  trips  him  up  on  that  score. 
Carlyle  was  very  amusing  the  other  morning  to  Mr. 
Chapman  about  the  Exhibition.  He  has  no  patience 
with  the  prince  and  "  that  Cole  "  assembling  Sawneys 
from  all  parts  of  the  land,  till  you  can't  get  along  Pic- 
cadilly. He  has  been  worn  to  death  with  bores  all 
summer,  who  present  themselves  by  twos  and  threes  in 
his  study,  saying,  "  Here  we  are,"  etc.,  etc. 
Letterto  j  wjsh  yOU  COuld  see  Miss  Bremer's  albums,  full  of 

Miss  Sara  ' 

Henneii,    portraits,  flowers,  and  landscapes,  all  done  by  herself. 

'851-  A  portrait  of  Emerson,  marvellously  like  ;  one  of  Jenny 
Lind,  etc.  Last  night  we  had  quite  a  charming  soiree 
— Sir  David  Brewster  and  his  daughter ;  Mackay,  author 
of  a  work  on  popular  education  you  may  remember  to 
have  seen  reviewed  in  the  Leader;  the  Ellises,  the 
Hodgsons,  and  half  a  dozen  other  nice  people.  Miss 
Bremer  was  more  genial  than  I  have  seen  her — played 
on  the  piano,  and  smiled  benevolently.  Altogether,  I 
am  beginning  to  repent  of  my  repugnance.  Mackay 
approves  our  prospectus  in  toto.  He  is  a  handsome, 
fine-headed  man,  and  a  "good  opinion."  We  are  get- 
ting out  a  circular  to  accompany  the  prospectus.  I 
have  been  kept  down-stairs  by  Mr.  Mackay  for  the  last 


1851.]  Mr.  Mackay — Carlyle.  191 

two  hours,  and  am  hurried,  but  it  was  a  necessity  toLetterto 

3         Miss  Sara 

write  tin  paar  Worte  to  you.     Mr.  Mackay  has  written  Henneii, 

f  J  J  igthOct. 

an  account  of  his  book  for  the  catalogue.  I  have  been  iSs1- 
using  my  powers  of  eloquence  and  flattery  this  morning 
to  make  him  begin  an  article  on  the  "  Development  of 
Protestantism."  Mr.  Ellis  was  agreeable — really  witty. 
He  and  Mrs.  Ellis  particularly  cordial  to  me,  inviting 
me  to  visit  them  without  ceremony.  I  love  you  all  bet- 
ter every  day,  and  better  the  more  I  see  of  other  peo- 
ple. I  am  going  to  one  of  the  Birkbeck  schools. 

I  must  tell  you  a  story  Miss  Bremer  got  from  Em er- Letter  to 

.  ,     ,  .        ,.  .     ,.         Miss  Sara 

son.     Carlyle  was  very  angry  with  him  for  not  believ-  Henneii, 

...  ,  ,  .  11-  3^  Nov. 

ing  in  a  devil,  and  to  convert  him  took  him  amongst  all  1851. 
the  horrors  of  London — the  gin-shops,  etc. — and  final- 
ly to  the  House  of  Commons,  plying  him  at  every  turn 
with  the  question,  "  Do  you  believe  in  a  devil  noo  ?" 
There  is  a  severe  attack  on  Carlyle's  "  Life  of  Ster- 
ling" in  yesterday's  Times — unfair  as  an  account  of  the 
book,  but  with  some  truth  in  its  general  remarks  about 
Carlyle.  There  is  an  article,  evidently  by  James  Mar- 
tineau,  in  the  Prospective,  which  you  must  read,  "  On 
the  Unity  of  the  Logical  and  Intuitive  in  the  Ultimate 
Grounds  of  Religious  Belief."  I  am  reading  with 
great  amusement  (!)  J.  H.  Newman's  "  Lectures  on  the 
Position  of  Catholics."  They  are  full  of  clever  satire 
and  description.  My  table  is  groaning  with  books,  and 
I  have  done  very  little  with  them  yet,  but  I  trust  in  my 
star,  which  has  hitherto  helped  me,  to  do  all  I  have  en- 
gaged to  do.  Pray  remember  to  send  the  MS.  trans- 
lation of  Schleiermacher's  little  book,  and  also  the 
book  itself. 

When  Mr.  Noel  had  finished  his  farewell  visit  to-day,  Letter  to 

J     the  Brays 

Mr.  Flower  was  announced,  so  my  morning  has  run  jsth  Nov. 
away  in  chat.     Time  wears,  and  I  don't  get  on  so  fast 


192          Meets  Leiues  at  the  Theatre.     [142  STRAND, 
i-etterto    as  I  ought,  but  I  must  scribble  a  word  or  two, else  you 

the  Brays,  ' 

isth  NOV.  will  make  my  silence  an  excuse  for  writing  me  no  word 
of  yourselves.  I  am  afraid  Mr.  Noel  and  Mr.  Bray  have 
given  you  a  poor  report  of  me.  The  last  two  days  I 
have  been  a  little  better,  but  I  hardly  think  existing  ar- 
rangements can  last  beyond  this  quarter.  Mr.  Noel 
says  Miss  L.  is  to  visit  you  at  Christmas.  I  hope  that 
is  a  mistake,  as  it  would  deprive  me  of  my  hoped-for 
rest  amongst  you. 

£ve-ttecto        On  Saturday  afternoon  came  Mr.  Spencer  to  ask 

Miss  bara  *  r 

Monda"'    ^r-  Chapman  and  me  to  go  to  the  theatre  ;  so  I  ended 
iis£N°v'    ^ie  day  *n  a  godless  manner,  seeing  the  "  Merry  Wives 
of  Windsor."     You  must  read  Carlyle's  denunciation 
of  the  open,  published   in  the  Keepsake!    The  Ex- 
aminer quotes  it  at  length.     I  send  you  the  enclosed 
from  Harriet  Martineau.    Please  to  return  it.   The  one 
from  Carlyle  you   may  keep  till  I  come.     He    is    a 
naughty  fellow  to  write  in  the  Keepsake,  and  not  for 
us,  after  I  wrote  him  the  most  insinuating  letter,  offer- 
ing him  three  glorious  subjects.     Yesterday  we  went 
to  Mr.  Mackay's,  Dr.  Brabant  being  there. 
Letter  to        Carlyle  called  the  other  clay,  strongly  recommending 
Bray,  27th  Browning,  the  poet,  as  a  writer  for  the  Review,  and 

Nov.  1851. 

saying,  "We  shall  see,"  about  himself.  In  other  re- 
spects we  have  been  stagnating  since  Monday,  and 
now  I  must  work,  work,  work,  which  I  have  scarcely 
done  two  days  consecutively  since  I  have  been  here. 
Lewes  says  his  article  on  "Julia  von  Krtidener"1  will 
be  glorious.  He  sat  in  the  same  box  with  us  at  the 
"  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  and  helped  to  carry  off  the 
dolorousness  of  the  play. 
Letter  to  Alas !  the  work  is  so  heavy  just  for  the  next  three 

the  Brays, _ . 

22dei)ec.'         l  Appeared  in  January,  1852,  number  of  the  Westminster  Revinv, 
'~5'  No.  i  of  the  New  Series. 


1851.]  Visit  to  RoseJiill.  193 

days,  all   the  revises  being  yet  to  come  in,  and  the  Letter  to 

J    '  the  Brays, 

proof  of  my  own  article  ; !  and  Mr.  Chapman  is  so  over-  Tuesday, 

1  J  _  '  L  22d  Dec. 

whelmed  with  matters  of  detail,  that  he  has  earnestly  l8sr- 
requested  me  to  stay  till  Saturday,  and  I  cannot  re- 
fuse, but  it  is  a  deep  disappointment  to  me.  My  heart 
will  yearn  after  you  all.  It  is  the  first  Christmas  Day  I 
shall  have  passed  without  any  Christmas  feeling.  On 
Saturday,  if  you  will  have  me,  nothing  shall  keep  me 
here  any  longer.  I  am  writing  at  a  high  table,  on  a 
low  seat,  in  a  great  hurry.  Don't  you  think  my  style 
is  editorial  ? 

Accordingly,  on  Saturday,  the  zgth  December, 
185  r,  she  did  go  down  to  Rosehill,  and  stayed  there 
till  i2th  January,  when  she  returned  to  London, 
and  writes : 
I  had  a  comfortable  journey  all   alone,  except  from  J^"6]^ 

Weedon  to  Blisworth.     When  I  saw  a  coated  animal '|thJan- 

1852. 

getting  into  my  carriage,  I  thought  of  all  horrible  stories 
of  madmen  in  railways ;  but  his  white  neckcloth  and 
thin,  mincing  voice  soon  convinced  me  that  he  was  one 
of  those  exceedingly  tame  animals,  the  clergy. 

A  kind  welcome  and  a  good  dinner — that  is  the  whole 
of  my  history  at  present.  I  am  in  anything  but  com- 
pany trim,  or  spirits.  I  can  do  nothing  in  return  for 
all  your  kindness,  dear  Cara,  but  love  you,  as  I  do 
most  heartily.  You  and  all  yours,  for  their  own  sake 
first,  but  if  it  were  not  so,  for  yours. 

Harriet  Martineau  called  on  Monday  morning  with  L,e.tter,to 

Miss  Sara 

Mr.  Atkinson.     Very  kind  and  cordial.     I  honor  her  Henneii, 

*  2ist  Jau. 

for  her  powers  and  industry,  and  should  be  glad  to  l8s2- 
think  highly  of  her.     I  have  no  doubt  that  she  is  fas- 
cinating when  there  is  time  for  talk.     We  have  had  two 

'Review  of  Carlyle's  "Life  of  Sterling"  in  Westminster,  Jan. 
1852. 

9 


194  ricrrc  Lcron.v.  [142  STRAND, 

Letter  to    agreeable  soirees.     Last  Monday  I  was   talking  and 

Miss  Sara  ' 

Henneii,  listening  for  two  hours  to  Pierre  Leroux — a  dreamy 
"852-  genius.  He  was  expounding  to  me  his  ideas.  He  be- 
longs neither  to  the  school  of  Proudhon,  which  repre- 
sents Liberty  only — nor  to  that  of  Louis  Blanc,  which 
represents  Equality  only — nor  to  that  of  Cabet,  which 
represents  Fraternity.  Pierre  Leroux's  system  is  the 
synthhe  which  combines  all  thre.e.  He  has  found  the 
true  pont  which  is  to  unite  the  love  of  self  with  love 
of  one's  neighbor.  He  is,  you  know,  a  very  volumi- 
nous writer.  George  Sand  has  dedicated  some  of  her 
books  to  him.  He  dilated  on  his  views  of  the  "Origin 
of  Christianity."  Strauss  deficient,  because  he  has 
not  shown  the  identity  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus  with  that 
of  the  Essenes.  This  is  Leroux's  favorite  idea.  I  told 
him  of  your  brother.  He,  moreover,  traces  Essenism 
back  to  Egypt,  and  thence  to  India — the  cradle  of  all 
religions,  etc.,  etc.,  with  much  more,  which  he  uttered 
with  an  unction  rather  amusing  in  a  soiree  tete-a-tcte. 
"  Est  ce  que  nous  sommes  faits  pour  chercher  le  bon- 
heur?  Est  ce  la  votre  ide'e — dites  moi."  "Mais  non 
— nous  sommes  faits,  je  pense,  pour  nous  developper  le 
plus  possible."  "  Ah !  c'est  ga."  He  is  in  utter  pov- 
erty, going  to  lecture — autrement  ilfaut  mourir.  Has 
a  wife  and  children  with  him.  He  came  to  London  in 
his  early  clays,  when  he  was  twenty-five,  to  find  work 
as  a  printer.  All  the  world  was  in  mourning  for  the 
Princess  Charlotte.  "  Et  moi,je  me  trouvais  avoir  un 
habit  vert-pommel  So  he  got  no  work  ;  went  back  to 
Paris  ;  by  hook  or  by  crook  founded  the  Globe  journal ; 
knew  St.  Simon  ;  disagrees  with  him  entirely,  as  with 
all  other  theorists  except  Pierre  Leroux. 

We   are  trying   Mazzini  to  write  on  "  Freedom  v. 
Despotism,"  and  have  received  an  admirable  article 


1852.]        Acquaintance  with  Miss  Parkes.          195 

on  "The  New  Puritanism,"1  i.e..  "Physical  Puritan- Letter  to 

•*  Miss  Sara 

ism,"  from    Dr.  Browne,  the   chemist   of  Edinburgh,  Henneii, 

to    52istjan. 

which,  I  think,  will  go  in  the  next  number.  1852. 

I  am  in  a  miserable  state  of  languor  and  low  spirits, 
in  which  everything  is  a  trouble  to  me.  I  must  tell 
you  a  bit  of  Louis  Blanc's  English,  which  Mr.  Spencer 
was  reciting  the  other  night.  The/^/#  homme  called 
on  some  one,  and  said,  "  I  come  to  tell  you  how  you 
are.  I  was  at  you  the  other  day,  but  you  were  not." 

We  went  to  quite  a  gay  party  at  Mrs.  Mackay's  on  Letter  to 
Saturday.  Good  Mr.  Mackay  has  been  taking  trouble  zd  Feb. 
to  get  me  to  Hastings  for  my  health — calling  on  Miss 
Fellowes,  daughter  of  the  "  Religion  of  the  Universe," 
and  inducing  her  to  write  me  a  note  of  invitation. 
Sara  will  be  heartily  welcome.  Unfortunately,  I  had 
an  invitation  to  the  Parkes's,  to  meet  Cobden,  on  Satur- 
day evening.  I  was  sorry  to  miss  that.  Miss  Parkes2 
is  a  dear,  ardent,  honest  creature  ;  and  I  hope  we  shall 
be  good  friends.  I  have  nothing  else  to  tell  you.  I 
am  steeped  in  dulness  within  and  without.  Heaven 
send  some  lions  to-night  to  meet  Fox,  who  is  coming. 
An  advertisement  we  found  in  the  Times  to-day — "To 
gentlemen.  A  converted  medical  man,  of  gentlemanly 
habits  and  fond  of  Scriptural  conversation,  wishes  to 
meet  with  a  gentleman  of  Calvinistic  views,  thirsty  after 
truth,  in  want  of  a  daily  companion.  A  little  tem- 
poral aid  will  be  expected  in  return.  Address,  Verax  !" 

We  are  going  to  Mr.  Ellis's,  at  Champion  Hill,  to- Letter  to 

Mrs.  Bray, 

morrow  evening.     I  am  better  now.     Have  rid  myself  sth  Feb. 
of  all  distasteful  work,  and  am  trying  to  love  the  glori- 


1  Published  in  the  April,  1852,  number  of  the  Westminster. 
3  Now  Madame  Belloc,  who  remained  to  the  end  one  of  George 
Eliot's  closest  friends. 


196  Suffering  from  Languor.    [142  STRAND, 

ous  destination  of  humanity,  looking  before  and  after. 
We  shall  be  glad  to  have  Sara. 

Miss   Sara   Hennell   arrived  on  a  visit   to  the 
Strand  next  day — the  gth  February — and  stayed 
till  the  lyth. 
Leiterto    j  have  not  merely  had  a  headache — I  have  been  really 

Mr.  Hray,  »  J 

i6th  Feb.  ju^  and  feei  very  much  shattered.  We  (Miss  Evans 
and  Miss  Sara  Hennell)  dined  yesterday  at  Mrs.  Peter 
Taylor's,'  at  Sydenham.  I  was  not  fit  to  go,  especially 
to  make  my  debut  at  a  strange  place ;  but  the  country 
air  was  a  temptation.  The  thick  of  the  work  is  just 
beginning,  and  I  am  bound  in  honor  not  to  run  away 
from  it,  as  I  have  shirked  all  labor  but  what  is  strictly 
editorial  this  quarter. 

letter  to        \ye  went  to  the  meeting  of  the  Association  for  the 

Mrs.  Bray, 

2oth  Feb.  Abolition  of  the  Taxes  on  Knowledge  on  Wednesday, 
that  I  might  hear  Cobden,  in  whom  I  was  wofully  dis- 
appointed. George  Dawson's  speech  was  admirable. 
I  think  it  undesirable  to  fix  on  a  London  residence  at 
present,  as  I  want  to  go  to  Brighton  for  a  month  or 
two  next  quarter.  I  am  seriously  concerned  at  my 
languid  body,  and  feel  the  necessity  of  taking  some 
measures  to  get  vigor.  Lewes  inquired  for  Sara  last 
Monday,  in  a  tone  of  interest.  He  was  charmed  with 
her,  as  who  would  not  be  that  has  any  taste  ?  Do  write 
to  me,  dear  Cara ;  I  want  comforting  :  this  world  looks 
ugly  just  now  ;  all  people  rather  worse  than  I  have 
been  used  to  think  them.  Put  me  in  love  with  my 

1  Mrs.  Peter  Taylor  remained  a  lifelong  and  a  valued  friend  of 
George  Eliot's,  and  many  interesting  letters  in  this  volume  are 
addressed  to  her.  I  am  glad  also  to  take  this  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing my  thanks  to  her  for  procuring  for  me  two  other  sets  of 
correspondence — the  letters  addressed  to  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe  and 
to  Mrs.  William  Smith. 


1852.]     "William  Tell"  and  the  "Creation."       197 

kind  again,  by  giving  me  a  glimpse  of  your  own  inward 
self,  since  I  cannot  see  the  outer  one. 

I  can  sympathize  with  you  in  your  troubles,  having  Letter  to 

J  J  J  &  Mrs.  Peter 

been  a  housekeeper  myself,  and  known  disappointment  Taylor, 

6th  Mch. 

in  trusted  servants.     Ah,  well !  we  have  a  good  share  *&s'- 
of  the  benefits  of  our  civilization,  it  is  but  fair  that  we 
should  feel  some  of  the  burden  of  its  imperfections. 

Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  wishing  to  see  me 
again.  I  should  really  like  to  see  you  in  your  own 
nice,  fresh,  healthy-looking  home  again  ;  but  until  the 
end  of  March  I  fear  I  shall  be  a  prisoner,  from  the 
necessity  for  constant  work.  Still,  it  is  possible  that 
I  may  have  a  day,  though  I  am  quite  unable  to  say 
when. 

You  will  be  still  more  surprised  at  the  notice  of  the 
Westminster  in  The  People^  when  you  know  that  Mac- 
coll  himself  wrote  it.  I  have  not  seen  it,  but  had  been 
told  of  its  ill-nature.  However,  he  is  too  good  a  man 
to  write  otherwise  than  sincerely ;  and  our  opinion  of 
a  book  often  depends  on  the  state  of  the  liver! 

I  had  two  offers  last  night — not  of  marriage,  but  of  L,etter*° 

Mrs.  Bray, 

music — which  I  find  it  impossible  to  resist.     Mr.  Her-2sthMch. 
r  1852. 

bert  Spencer  proposed  to  take  me  on  Thursday  to  hear 
"  William  Tell,''  and  Miss  Parkes  asked  me  to  go  with 
her  to  hear  the  "  Creation  "  on  Friday.  I  have  had  so 
little  music  this  quarter,  and  these  two  things  are  so 
exactly  what  I  should^  like,  that  I  have  determined  to 
put  off,  for  the  sake  of  them,  my  other  pleasure  of  see- 
ing you.  So,  pray,  keep  your  precious  welcome  warm 
for  me  until  Saturday,  when  I  shall  positively  set  off 
by  the  two  o'clock  train.  Harriet  Martineau  has 
written  me  a  most  cordial  invitation  to  go  to  see  herletterto 
before  July,  but  that  is  impossible.  Ta'yio?'" 

I  am  grieved  to  find  that  you  have  to  pay  for  that  J^,.  ^ 


198  Help  in  Despondency.       [i42  STRAND, 

i^tterto  fine  temperament  of  yours  in  attacks  of  neuralgia. 
Ta{i  M'  h  ^our  s^ence  did  not  surprise  me,  after  the  account  you 
'Ss*-  had  given  me  of  your  domestic  circumstances,  but  I 
have  wished  for  you  on  Monday  evenings.  Your  cor- 
dial assurance  that  you  shall  be  glad  to  see  me  some- 
times is  one  of  those  pleasant  things — those  life-pre- 
servers— which  relenting  destiny  sends  me  now  and 
then  to  buoy  me  up.  For  you  must  know  that  I  am 
not  a  little  desponding  now  and  then,  and  think  that 
old  friends  will  die  off,  while  I  shall  be  left  without  the 
power  to  make  new  ones.  You  know  how  sad  one 
feels  when  a  great  procession  has  swept  by  one,  and  the 
last  notes  of  its  music  have  died  away,  leaving  one 
alone  with  the  fields  and  sky.  I  feel  so  about  life 
sometimes.  It  is  a  help  to  read  such  a  life  as  Margaret 
Fuller's.  How  inexpressibly  touching  that  passage 
from  her  journal — "  I  shall  always  reign  through  the 
intellect,  but  the  life  !  the  life  !  O  my  God  !  shall  that 
never  be  sweet?"  I  am  thankful,  as  if  for  myself,  that 
it  was  sweet  at  last.  But  I  am  running  on  about  feel- 
ings when  I  ought  to  tell  you  facts.  I  am  going  on 
Wednesday  to  my  friends  in  Warwickshire  for  about 
ten  days  or  a  fortnight.  When  I  come  back,  I  hope 
you  will  be  quite  strong  and  able  to  receive  visitors 
without  effort — Mr.  Taylor  too. 

I  did  go  to  the  conversazione ;  but  you  have  less  to 
regret  than  you  think.  Mazzifti's  speeches  are  better 
read  than  heard.  Proofs  are  come,  demanding  my 
immediate  attention,  so  I  must  end  this  hasty  scrib- 
ble. 

On  the  3d  April  Miss  Evans  went  to  Rosehill, 
and  stayed  till  the  i4th.    On  her  return  she  writes  : 

Letter  to     „,.  .  .  .      .        , 

Mr.  Bray,   1  here  was  an  article  on  the  bookselling  affair  in  the 
1852.  P     Times  of  yesterday,  which  must  be  the  knell  of  the 


1852.]  Friendship  for  Miss  Sara  Hennell.  199 
Association.  Dickens  is  to  preside  at  a  meeting  inLetterto 

Mr.  Bray, 

this  house  on  the  subject  some  clay  next  week.     The '7th  April 

.  1852. 

opinions  on   the  various  articles  in  the  Review  are, 

as  before,  ridiculously  various.  The  Economist  calls 
the  article  on  Quakerism  "  admirably  written."  Greg 
says  the  article  on  India  is  "very  masterly;"  while 
he  calls  Mazzini's  "sad  stuff — mere  verbiage." 

If  there  is  any  change  in  my  affection  for  you  it  is  Letter  to 

•>  J  J  Miss  Sara 

that  I  love  you  more  than  ever,  not  less.     I  have  as  Henneii, 

.  2ist  April. 

perfect  a  friendship  for  you  as  my  imperfect  nature  can  1852. 
feel — a  friendship  in  which  deep  respect  and  admira- 
tion are  sweetened  by  a  sort  of  flesh-and-blood  sisterly 
feeling  and  the  happy  consciousness  that  I  have  your 
affection,  however  undeservedly,  in  return.  I  have  con- 
fidence that  this  friendship  can  never  be  shaken ;  that 
it  must  last  while  I  last,  and  that  the  supposition  of 
its  ever  being  weakened  by  a  momentary  irritation  is 
too  contemptibly  absurd  for  me  to  take  the  trouble  to 
deny  it.  As  to  your  whole  conduct  to  me,  from  the 
first  day  I  knew  you,  it  has  been  so  generous  and  sym- 
pathetic that,  if  I  did  not  heartily  love  you,  I  should 
feel  deep  gratitude — but  love  excludes  gratitude.  It 
is  impossible  that  I  should  ever  love  two  women  bet- 
ter than  I  love  you  and  Cara.  Indeed,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  can  never  love  any  so  well ;  and  it  is  certain 
that  I  can  never  have  any  friend — not  even  a  husband 
— who  would  supply  the  loss  of  those  associations 
with  the  past  which  belong  to  you.  Do  believe  in  my 
love  for  you,  and  that  it  will  remain  as  long  as  I  have 
my  senses,  because  it  is  interwoven  with  my  best  nat- 
ure, and  is  dependent,  not  on  any  accidents  of  man- 
ner, but  on  long  experience,  which  has  confirmed  the 

,.          . .         ,  Letter  tc 

instinctive  attraction  of  earlier  days.  the  Brays, 

Our  fortunes  here  are,  as  usual,  checkered —  11S2.  ** 


2OO  IT.  R.  Greg1  and  Foster.     [142  STRAND, 

"  Twist  ye,  twine  ye,  even  so 
Mingle  human  weal  and  woe." 

Grote  is  very  friendly,  and  has  propitiated  J.  S.  Mill, 
who  will  write  for  us  when  we  want  him.  We  had 
quite  a  brilliant  soirie  yesterday  evening.  W.  R.  Greg, 
Forster  (of  Rawdon),  Francis  Newman,  the  Ellises, 
and  Louis  Blanc,  were  the  stars  of  greatest  magnitude. 
I  had  a  pleasant  talk  with  Greg  and  Forster.  Greg 
was  "  much  pleased  to  have  made  my  acquaintance." 
Forster,  on  the  whole,  appeared  to  think  that  people 
should  be  glad  to  make  his  acquaintance.  Greg  is  a 
short  man,  but  his  brain  is  large,  the  anterior  lobe  very 
fine,  and  a  moral  region  to  correspond.  Black,  wiry, 
curly  hair,  and  every  indication  of  a  first-rate  tempera- 
ment. We  have  some  very  nice  Americans  here — 
the  Pughs  —  friends  of  the  Parkes's,  really  refined,  in- 
tellectual people.  Miss  Pugh,  an  elderly  lady,  is  a 
great  abolitionist,  and  was  one  of  the  Women's  Con- 
vention that  came  to  England  in  1840,  and  was  not 
allowed  to  join  the  Men's  Convention.  But  I  suppose 
we  shall  soon  be  able  to  say,  nous  avons  chang'e  tout 
cela. 

I  went  to  the  opera  on  Saturday  — "  I  Martiri,"  at 
Covent  Garden  —  with  my  "excellent  friend,  Herbert 
Spencer,"  as  Lewes  calls  him.  We  have  agreed  that 
we  are  not  in  love  with  each  other,  and  that  there  is  no 
reason  why  we  should  not  have  as  much  of  each  other's 
society  as  we  like.  He  is  a  good,  delightful  creature, 
and  I  always  feel  better  for  being  with  him. 
the'ifra^s  J  l'ke  to  remind  you  of  me  on  Sunday  morning, 
zd  May,  when  you  look  at  the  flowers  and  listen  to  music ;  so 
I  send  a  few  lines,  though  I  have  not  much  time  to 
spare  to-day.  After  Tuesday  I  will  write  you  a  longer 
letter,  and  tell  you  all  about  everything.  I  am  going 


1852.]          Charles  Dickens  as  Chairman.  201 

to  the  opera  to-night  to  hear  the  "Huguenots."     See  Letter  to 

r  the  Brays, 

what  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  pick  up  people  who  are  short- 2d  May, 

1852. 
sighted  enough  to  like  one. 

On  the  4th  of  May  a  meeting,  consisting  chiefly 
of  authors,  was  held  at  the  house  in  the  Strand,  for 
the  purpose  of  hastening  the  removal  of  the  trade 
restrictions  on  the  Commerce  of  Literature,  and  it 
is  thus  described  in  the  following  letter : 
The  meeting  last  night  went  off  triumphantly,  andLetterto 

* '  the  Brays, 

I  saluted  Mr.  Chapman  with  "  See  the  Conquering  s^-  Mav. 
Hero  Comes  "  on  the  piano  at  12  o'clock  ;  for  not  until 
then  was  the  last  magnate,  except  Herbert  Spencer, 
out  of  the  house.  I  sat  at  the  door  for  a  short  time, 
but  soon  got  a  chair  within  it,  and  heard  and  saw 
everything. 

Dickens  in  the  chair — a  position  he  fills  remarkably 
well,  preserving  a  courteous  neutrality  of  eyebrows, 
and  speaking  with  clearness  and  decision.  His  ap- 
pearance is  certainly  disappointing — no  benevolence 
in  the  face,  and,  I  think,  little  in  the  head ;  the  ante- 
rior lobe  not  by  any  means  remarkable.  In  fact,  he  is 
not  distinguished -looking  in  any  way — neither  hand- 
some nor  ugly,  neither  fat  nor  thin,  neither  tall  nor 
short.  Babbage  moved  the  first  resolution  —  a  bad 
speaker,  but  a  great  authority.  Charles  Knight  is  a 
beautiful,  elderly  man,  with  a  modest  but  firm  enunci- 
ation ;  and  he  made  a  wise  and  telling  speech  which 
silenced  one  or  two  vulgar,  ignorant  booksellers  who 
had  got  into  the  meeting  by  mistake.  One  of  these 
began  by  complimenting  Dickens  —  "views  held  by 
such  worthy  and  important  gentlemen,  which  is  your 
worthy  person  in  the  c/iair."  Dickens  looked  respect- 
fully neutral.  The  most  telling  speech  of  the  evening 
was  Prof.  Tom  Taylor's — as  witty  and  brilliant  as  one. 
9* 


2O2  Meeting  in  the  Strand.     [142  STRAND, 

Letter  to    of  George    Dawson's.      Prof.   Owen's,   too,  was    rc- 

the  Brays, 

sth  May,  markably  good.  He  had  a  resolution  to  move  as  to 
the  bad  effect  of  the  trade  restrictions  on  scientific 
works,  and  gave  his  own  experience  in  illustration. 
Speaking  of  the  slow  and  small  sale  of  scientific  books 
of  a  high  class,  he  said,  in  his  silvery,  bland  way — al- 
luding to  the  boast  that  the  retail  booksellers  recom- 
mended the  works  of  less  known  authors — "  for  which 
limited  sale  we  are  doubtless  indebted  to  the  kind  rec- 
ommendation of  our  friends,  the  retail  booksellers  " — 
whereupon  these  worthies,  taking  it  for  a  bona  fide 
compliment,  cheered  enthusiastically.  Dr.  Lankester, 
Prof.  Newman,  Robert  Bell,  and  others,  spoke  well. 
Owen  has  a  tremendous  head,  and  looked,  as  he  was, 
the  greatest  celebrity  of  the  meeting.  George  Cruik- 
shank,  too,  made  a  capital  speech,  in  an  admirable 
moral  spirit.  He  is  the  most  homely,  genuine-looking 
man  ;  not  unlike  the  pictures  of  Captain  Cuttle. 

I  went  to  hear  the  "  Huguenots"  on  Saturday  even- 
ing. It  was  a  rich  treat.  Mario  and  Grisi  and  Formes, 
and  that  finest  of  orchestras  under  Costa.  I  am  going 
to  a  concert  to-night.  This  is  all  very  fine,  but,  in  the 
meantime,  I  am  getting  as  haggard  as  an  old  witch  un- 
der London  atmosphere  and  influences.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  have  sent  me  my  Shakespeare,  Goethe,  Byron, 
and  Wordsworth,  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  take  the 
trouble  of  packing  them. 

Letter  to        My  days  have  slipped  away  in  a  most  mysterious 

Monday     fashion  lately  —  chiefly,  I  suppose,  in  long  walks  and 

May,  1852.  long  talks.     Our  Monday  evenings  are  dying  off — not 

universally  regretted — but  we  are  expecting  one  or  two 

people  to-night.     I  have  nothing  to  tell  except  that  I 

went  to  the  opera  on  Thursday,  and  heard  "  La  Juive," 

and,  moreover,  fell  in  love  with  Prince  Albert,  who  was 


1852.]          Admiration  of  Prince  Albert.  203 

unusually  animated  and  prominent.     He  has  a  noble  Letter  to 

'  the  Brays, 

genial,  intelligent  expression,  and  is  altogether  a  man  Monday, 
to  be  proud  of.     \  am  going  next  Thursday  to  see  May,  1852. 
Grisi  in  "  Norma."     She  is  quite  beautiful  this  season, 
thinner  than  she  was,  and  really  younger  looking. 

My  brightest  spot,  next  to  my  love  of  old  friends,  is  ^^SM 
the  deliciously  calm,  new  friendship  that  Herbert  Spen-  ^^May, 
cer  gives  me.     We  see  each  other  every  day,  and  have  l852- 
a  delightful  camaraderie  in  everything.     But  for  him 
my  life  would  be  desolate  enough.     What  a  wretched 
lot  of  old,  shrivelled  creatures  we  shall  be  by  and  by. 
Never  mind,  the  uglier  we  get  in  the  eyes  of  others  the 
lovelier  we  shall  be  to  each  other ;  that  has  always 
been  my  firm  faith  about  friendship,  and  now  it  is  in  a 
slight  degree  my  experience.     Mine.  d'Albert  has  sent 
me  the  sweetest  letter,  just  like  herself;  and  I  feel 
grateful  to  have  such  a  heart  remembering  and  loving 
me  on  the  other  side  of  the  Jura.     They  are  very  well 
and  flourishing. 

I  am  bothered  to  death  with  article  -  reading  and  L,e.tt£* to 

0        _      Miss  Sara 

scrap-work  of  all  sorts :  it  is  clear  my  poor  head  will  Henneii, 

*    r  Wednes- 

never  produce  anything  under  these  circumstances  :  day, 2d 

*  '  June,  1852. 

but  I  am  patient.  I  am  ashamed  to  tease  you  so,  but 
I  must  beg  of  you  to  send  me  George  Sand's  works ; 
and  also  I  shall  be  grateful  if  you  will  lend  me — what  I 
think  you  have — an  English  edition  of  "  Corinne,"  and 
Miss  Austen's  "  Sense  and  Sensibility."  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau's  article  on  "  Niebuhr  "  will  not  go  in  the  July 
number.  I  am  sorry  for  it ;  it  is  admirable.  After 
all,  she  is  a  trump — the  only  Englishwoman  that  pos- 
sesses thoroughly  the  art  of  writing. 

On  Thursday  morning  I  went  to  St.  Paul's  to  see 
the  charity  children  assembled,  and  hear  their  sing- 
ing. Berlioz  says  it  is  the  finest  thing  he  has  heard 


2O4   Geo.  Combe  on  tlie  "  Westminster"  [i42  STRAND, 
Letter  to    in  England  :  and  this  opinion  of  his  induced  me  to  go. 

Miss  Sara 

wT1"'11'    *  was  not  Disappointed  ;  it  is  worth  doing  once,  espe- 
day.ad      cially  as  we  got  out  before  the  sermon.     I  had  a  long 

June,  1852.     -      J 

call  from  George  Combe  yesterday.  He  says  he  thinks 
the  Westminster,  under  my  management,  the  most  im- 
portant means  of  enlightenment  of  a  literary  nature  in 
existence  ;  the  Edinburgh,  under  Jeffrey,  nothing  to  it, 
etc.  ! ! !  I  wish  /  thought  so  too. 

the'era0  Your  joint  assurance  of  welcome  strengthens  the 
jMstjune,  centripetal  force  that  would  carry  me  to  you;  but,  on 
the  other  hand,  sundry  considerations  are  in  favor  of 
the  centrifugal  force,  which,  I  suppose,  will  carry  me 
to  Broadstairs  or  Ramsgate.  On  the  whole,  I  prefer 
to  keep  my  visit  to  you  as  a  bonne-bouche,  when  I  am 
just  in  the  best  physical  and  mental  state  for  enjoying 
it.  I  hope  to  get  away  on  Saturday,  or  on  Wednesday 
at  the  latest.  I-think  the  third  number  of  the  Review 
will  be  capital ;  thoroughly  readable,  and  yet  not 
frothy. 
Letter  to  i  have  assured  Herbert  Spencer  that  you  will  think 

Charles  * 

Br?-v;        it  a  sufficiently  formal  answer  to  the  invitation  you 

zsd  June,  '  * 

sent  him  through  Mr.  Lewes,  if  I  tell  you  that  he  will 
prefer  waiting  for  the  pleasure  of  a  visit  to  you  until  I 
am  with  you — if  you  will  have  him  then.     I  spent  the 
evening  at  Mr.  Parkes's  on  Monday.     Yesterday  Her- 
bert Spencer  brought  his  father  to  see  me — a  large- 
brained,  highly  informed  man,  with  a  certain  quaint- 
ness  and  simplicity,  altogether  very  pleasing. 
iesara       After  all,  I  begin  to  hope  that  our  next  number  will 
hTune,  ^e  tne  ^est  vet-     F°rDes  is  good  ;  Froude  ditto ;  and 
(ft  1852.     James  Martineau,  if  I  may  judge  from  a  glance  at  a 
few  of  his  pages,  admirable.     Lewes  has  written  us  an 
agreeable  article  on  "Lady  Novelists."     There  is  a 
mysterious  contribution  to  the  independent  section. 


1852.]      Acquaintance  with  Miss  B.  Smith.        205 

We  are  hoping  that  an  article  on  "Edinburgh  Literary  Letter  to 

8  J  Miss  Sara 

Men."  yet  to  come,  will  be  very  good.     If  not.  we  shall  Henneii, 

J  25th  June, 

put  in  "  Niebuhr  •"  it  is  capital.  (?)  1852. 

The  opera,  Chiswick  Flower  Show,  the  French  play,  Letter  to 
and  the  Lyceum,  all  in  one  week,  brought  their  natural  end  of 

June,  1852. 

consequences  of  headache  and  hysterics  —  all  yester- 
day. At  five  o'clock  I  felt  quite  sure  that  life  was  un- 
endurable. This  morning,  however,  the  weather  and 
I  are  both  better,  having  cried  ourselves  out  and  used 
up  all  our  clouds ;  and  I  can  even  contemplate  living 
six  months  longer.  Was  there  ever  anything  more 
dreary  than  this  June  ? 

I  am  busy  packing  to-day,  and  am  going  to  Mr.  j^ttegt(J 
Parkes's  to  dinner.     Miss  Parkes  has  introduced  me  Henneii, 

Friday 

to  Barbara  Smith,1  whose  expression  I  like  exceed  ing-™ornuins> 
ly,  and  hope  to  know  more  of  her.     I  go  to  Broadstairs  l852- 
on  Saturday.     I  am  sadly  in  want  of  the  change,  and 
would  much  rather  present  myself  to  you  all  when  I 
can  do  you  more  credit  as  a  friend. 

I  warn  you  against  Ramsgate,  which  is  a  strip  of  Letter  to 

'  Mrs.  Bray, 

London  come  out  for  an  airing.  Broadstairs  is  per-  4th  July, 
feet ;  and  I  have  the  snuggest  little  lodging  conceiv- 
able, with  a  motherly  good  woman  and  a  nice  little  dam- 
sel of  fourteen  to  wait  on  me.  There  are  only  my  two 
rooms  in  this  cottage,  but  lodgings  are  plentiful  in  the 
place.  I  have  a  sitting-room  about  eight  feet  by  nine, 
and  a  bedroom  a  little  larger  :  yet  in  that  small  space 
there  is  almost  every  comfort.  I  pay  a  guinea  a  week 
for  my  rooms,  so  I  shall  not  ruin  myself  by  staying  a 
month,  unless  I  commit  excesses  in  coffee  and  sugar. 
I  am  thinking  whether  it  would  not  be  wise  to  retire 

1  Afterwards  Madame  Bodichon — one  of  the  three  or  four  most 
intimate  friends  of  George  Eliot,  whose  name  will  very  often  ap- 
pear in  subsequent  pages. 


206  Change  to  Broadstairs,     [BROADSTAIRS, 

Letter  to    from  the  world  and  live  here  for  the  rest  of  my  days. 

Mr   Hrny, 

4th  July,  With  some  fresh  paper  on  the  walls,  and  an  easy-chair, 
I  think  I  could  resign  myself.  Come  and  tell  me  your 
opinion. 

MteSara      *  thought  °f  y°u  last  m&ht,  wnen  I  was  in  a  state  of 

JlTYu!'    mingled  rapture  and  torture — rapture  at  the  sight  of  a 

glorious  evening  sky,  torture  at  the  sight  and  hearing 

of  the  belaboring  given  to  the  poor  donkey  which  was 

drawing  me  from  Ramsgate  home. 

I  had  a  note  from  Miss  Florence  Nightingale  yes- 
terday. I  was  much  pleased  with  her.  There  is  a 
loftiness  of  mind  about  her  which  is  well  expressed  by 
her  form  and  manner.  Glad  you  are  pleased  with  the 
Westminster,  I  do  think  it  a  rich  number — matter  for 
a  fortnight's  reading  and  thought.  Lewes  has  not  half 
done  it  justice  in  the  Leader.  To  my  mind  the"Nie- 
buhr  "  article  is  as  good  as  any  of  them.  If  you  could 
see  me  in  my  quiet  nook  !  I  am  half  ashamed  of  be- 
ing in  such  clover,  both  spiritually  and  materially,  while 
some  of  my  friends  are  on  the  dusty  highways,  without 
a  tuft  of  grass  or  a  flower  to  cheer  them.  A  letter 
from  you  will  be  delightful.  We  seem  to  have  said 
very  little  to  each  other  lately.  But  I  always  know — 
rejoice  to  know — that  there  is  the  same  Sara  for  me 
as  there  is  the  same  green  earth  and  arched  sky, 
when  I  am  good  and  wise  enough  to  like  the  best 
thing. 

Letter  to  Do  not  be  anxious  about  me — there  is  no  cause.  I 
Bray,  2ist  am  profiting,  body  and  mind,  from  quiet  walks  and 
talks  with  nature,  gathering  "  lady's  bedstraw "  and 
"  rest-harrow,"  and  other  pretty  things  ;  picking  up 
shells  (not  in  the  Newtonian  sense,  but  literally) ;  read- 
ing Aristotle,  to  find  out  what  is  the  chief  good  ;  and 
eating  mutton-chops,  that  I  may  have  strength  to  pur- 


1852.]  Visit  from  Mrs.  Bray.  207 

sue  it.     If  you  insist  on  my  writing  about  "emotions,"  Letter  to 

Charles 

why,  I  must  get  some  up  expressly  for  the  purpose.  Bray.  zis' 
But  I  must  own  I  would  rather  not,  for  it  is  the  grand 
wish  and  object  of  my  life  to  get  rid  of  them  as  far  as 
possible,  seeing  they  have  already  had  more  than  their 
share  of  my  nervous  energy.    I  shall  not  be  in  town  on 
the  zd  of  August — at  least,  I  pray  Heaven  to  forbid  it. 
Mrs.  Bray  paid  a  visit  to  Broadstairs  from   the 
3d  to  the  1 2th  August,  and  the  next  letter  is  ad- 
dressed to  her. 

Are  you  really  the  better  for  having  been  here?   Since  Letter  to 
you  left  I  have  been  continually  regretting  that  I  could  Thursday,' 
not  make  your  visit  pleasanter.     I  was  irritable  and  Aug.  1852. 
out  of  sorts ;  but  you  have  an  apparatus  for  secreting 
happiness — that's  it.    Providence,  seeing  that  I  wanted 
weaning  from  this  place,  has  sent  a  swarm  of  harvest- 
bugs  and  lady-birds.     These,  with  the  half-blank,  half- 
dissipated  feeling  which  comes  on  after  having  com- 
panions and  losing  them,  make  me  think  of  returning 
to  London  on  Saturday  week  with  more  resignation 
than  I  have  felt  before.     I  am  very  well  and  "  plucky  " 
— a  word  which  I  propose  to  substitute  for  happy,  as 
more  truthful. 

For  the  last  two  months  I  have  been  at  this  pretty,  Letter  to 

•"  Mrs.  Peter 

quiet   place,   which  "  David    Copperfield  "   has    made  Tay'°T' 
classic,  far  away  from  London  noise  and  smoke.  l8sz- 

I  am  sorry  now  that  I  brought  with  me  Fox's  "  Lect- 
ures," which  I  had  not  managed  to  read  before  I  left 
town.  But  I  shall  return  thither  at  the  end  of  next 
week,  and  I  will  at  once  forward  the  volume  to  Gary 
Lane. 

One  sees  no  novels  less  than  a  year  old  at  the  sea- 
side, so  I  am  unacquainted  with  the  "  Blithedale  Ro- 
mance," except  through  the  reviews,  which  have  whetted 


208  Admiration  of  Hawthorne.  [BROADSTAIRS, 

Letter  to    my  curiosity  more  than  usual.     Hawthorne  is  a  grand 

Mrs.  Peter 

Taylor,  favorite  of  mine,  and  I  shall  be  sorry  if  he  do  not  go 
1852.  on  surpassing  himself.  It  is  sad  to  hear  of  your  only 
going  out  to  consult  a  physician.  Illness  seems  to  me 
the  one  woe  for  which  there  is  no  comfort — no  com- 
pensation. But  perhaps  you  find  it  otherwise,  for  you 
have  a  less  rebellious  spirit  than  I,  and  suffering  seems 
to  make  you  look  all  the  more  gentle. 

[<f  Mrs.  Thinking  of  you  this  morning — as  I  often  do,  though 
«dUAuton>y°u  may  not  suPPose  so — it  was  "borne  in  on  my 
l8s2-  mind  "  that  I  must  write  to  you,  and  I  obey  the  in- 
spiration without  waiting  to  consider  whether  there 
may  be  a  corresponding  desire  on  your  part  to  hear 
from  me.  I  live  in  a  world  of  cares  and  joys  so  re- 
mote from  the  one  in  which  we  used  to  sympathize 
with  each  other  that  I  find  positive  communication 
with  you  difficult.  But  I  am  not  unfaithful  to  old  loves 
— they  were  sincere,  and  they  are  lasting.  I  hope  you 
will  not  think  it  too  much  trouble  to  write  me  a  little 
news  of  yourself.  I  want  very  much  to  know  if  your 
health  continues  good,  and  if  there  has  been  any  change 
in  your  circumstances,  that  I  may  have  something  like 
a  true  conception  of  you.  All  is  well  with  me  so  far 
as  my  individuality  is  concerned,  but  I  have  plenty  of 
friends'  troubles  to  sorrow  over.  I  hope  you  have  none 
to  add  to  the  number. 
Letter  to  \  celebrated  my  return  to  London  by  the  usual  ob- 

Miss  Sara 

enneii,    servance — that  is  to  say,  a  violent  headache,  which  is 

th  Aug.  J 

5^  not  yet  gone,  and  of  course  I  am  in  the  worst  spirits, 
and  my  opinion  of  things  is  not  worth  a  straw.  I  tell 
you  this  that  you  may  know  why  I  only  send  you  this 
scrap  instead  of  the  long  letter  which  I  have  in  petto  for 
you,  and  which  would  otherwise  have  been  written 
yesterday. 


1852.]  Lewes  on  Comte.  209 

Somehow  my  letters — except  those  which  come  un-  Letter  t« 

Miss  Sara 

der  the  inexorable  imperative  must  (the  "  ought "  I  Henneii, 
manage  well  enough  to  shirk) — will  not  get  written.  1852. 
The  fact  is,  I  am  in  a  croaking  mood,  and  I  am  wait- 
ing and  waiting  for  it  to  pass  by,  so  if  my  pen  croaks 
in  spite  of  my  resolutions  to  the  contrary,  please  to 
take  no  notice  of  it.  Ever  since  I  came  back  I  have 
felt  something  like  the  madness  which  imagines  that 
the  four  walls  are  contracting  and  going  to  crush  one. 
Harriet  Martineau  (in  a  private  letter  shown  to  me), 
with  incomprehensible  ignorance,  jeers  at  Lewes  for 
introducing  flsj'c/io/ogy  as  a  science  in  his  Comte  papers. 
Why,  Comte  himself  holds  psychology  to  be  a  neces- 
sary link  in  the  chain  of  science.  Lewes  only  suggests 
a  change  in  its  relations.  There  is  a  great,  dreary 
article  on  the  Colonies  by  my  side,  asking  for  reading 
and  abridgment,  so  I  cannot  go  on  scribbling — indeed, 
my  hands  are  so  hot  and  tremulous  this  morning  that 
it  will  be  better  for  you  if  I  leave  off.  Your  little  lov- 
ing notes  are  very  precious  to  me  ;  but  I  say  nothing 
about  matters  of  feeling  till  my  good  genius  has  re- 
turned from  his  excursions ;  the  evil  one  has  possession 
just  now. 

The  week  has  really  yielded  nothing  worth  telling  Letter  to 

-          ,     .  Mw.  Bray 

you.  I  am  a  few  degrees  more  wizened  and  muddle- «th  Sept. 
headed ;  and  the  articles  for  the  Review  are,  on  the 
whole,  unsatisfactory.  I  fear  a  discerning  public  will 
think  this  number  a  sad  falling-off.  This  is  the  greater 
pity,  that  said  public  is  patronizing  us  well  at  present. 
Scarcely  a  day  passes  that  some  one  does  not  write  to 
order  the  Review,  as  a  permanent  subscriber.  You  may 
as  well  expect  news  from  an  old  spider  or  bat  as  from 
me.  I  can  only  tell  you  what  I  think  of  the  "  Blithedale 
Romance,"  of  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and  the  American 


2io  Function  of  the  Cerebellum.  [142  STRAND, 

Letter  to    Fishery  Dispute — all  which,  I  am  very  sure,  you  don't 

nthSept.  want  to  know.     Do  have  pity  on  me,  and  make  a  little 
185*.  v  J 

variety  in  my  life,  by  all  sending  me  a  scrap — never 

mind  if  it  be  only  six  lines  apiece.  Perhaps  some- 
thing will  befall  me  one  day  or  other.  As  it  is,  noth- 
ing happens  to  me  but  the  ringing  of  the  dinner-bell  and 
the  arrival  of  a  proof.  I  have  no  courage  to  walk  out. 
Letter  to  Lewes  called  on  me  the  other  day  and  told  me  of  a 

Charles  » 

Bray,  i8th  conversation  with  Professor  Owen,  in  which  the  latter 

Sept.  1852. 

declared  his  conviction  that  the  cerebrum  was  not  the 
organ  of  the  mind,  but  the  cerebellum  rather.  He 
founds  on  the  enormous  comparative  size  of  brain  in 
the  grampus !  The  professor  has  a  huge  anterior  lobe 
of  his  own.  What  would  George  Combe  say  if  I  were 
to  tell  him  ?  But  every  great  man  has  his  paradox, 
and  that  of  the  first  anatomist  in  Europe  ought  to  be  a 
startling  one. 
Letter  to  \yQ  shall  make  a  respectable  figure  after  all — nine 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,     articles,  and  two  or  three  of  them  good,  the  rest  not 

Saturday, 

Sept.  1852.  bad.  The  Review  has  been  selling  well  lately,  in  spite 
of  its  being  the  end  of  the  quarter.  We  have  made 
splendid  provision  for  January  —  Froude,  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau,  Theodore  Parker,  Samuel  Brown,  etc.,  etc.  The 
autumnal  freshness  of  the  mornings  makes  me  dream 
of  mellowing  woods  and  gossamer  threads.  I  am  real- 
ly longing  for  my  journey.  Bessie  Parkes  spent  last 
evening  with  me,  chatting  of  experience. 

Letter  to        Pity  me — I  have  had  the  headache  for  four  days  in- 

the  Brays, 

2d  Oct.      cessantly.     But  now  I  am  well,  and  even  the  Strand 
1852.  * 

seems  an  elysium  by  contrast.     I  set  off  on  Tuesday 

for  Edinburgh  by  express.  This  is  awfully  expensive, 
but  it  seems  the  only  way  of  reaching  there  alive  with 
my  frail  body.  I  have  had  the  kindest  notes  from  the 
Combes  and  from  Harriet  Martineau. 


1852.]  Visit  to  Edinburgh.  211 

Here  I  am  in  this  beautiful  Auld  Reekie  once  more  Letter  to 

the  Brays, 

— hardly  recognizing  myself  for  the  same  person  as  the  ?thOct. 
damozel  who  left  it  by  the  coach  with  a  heavy  heart 
some  six  years  ago.  The  Combes  are  all  kindness, 
and  I  am  in  clover — an  elegant  house,  glorious  fires, 
and  a  comfortable  carriage — in  short,  just  in  the  cir- 
cumstances to  nourish  sleek  optimism,  convince  one 
that  this  is /i?  meilleurdes  mondes  possibles,  and  make  one 
shudder  at  the  impiety  of  all  who  doubt  it.  Last  even- 
ing Mr.  Robert  Cox  came  to  tea,  to  be  introduced  to 
me  as  my  cicerone  through  the  lions  of  Edinburgh.  The 
talk  last  night  was  pleasant  enough,  though,  of  course, 
all  the  interlocutors  besides  Mr.  Combe  have  little  to 
do  but  shape  elegant  modes  of  negation  and  affirma- 
tion, like  the  people  who  are  talked  to  by  Socrates  in 
Plato's  dialogues—"  Certainly,"  "  that  I  firmly  believe," 
etc.  I  have  a  beautiful  view  from  my  room  window — 
masses  of  wood,  distant  hills,  the  Firth,  and  four  splen- 
did buildings,  dotted  far  apart — not  an  ugly  object  to 
be  seen.  When  I  look  out  in  the  morning,  it  is  as  if  I 
had  waked  up  in  Utopia  or  Icaria,  or  one  of  Owen's 
parallelograms.  The  weather  is  perfect — all  the  more 
delightful  to  me  for  its  northern  sharpness,  which  is 
just  what  I  wanted  to  brace  me.  I  have  been  out 
walking  and  driving  all  day,  and  have  only  time  before 
dinner  to  send  this  paar  Worte,  but  I  may  have  still 
less  time  to-morrow. 

Between  the  beautv  of  the  weather  and  the  scenery,  Letter  to 

J    the  Brays, 

and  the  kindness  of  good  people,  I  am  tipsy  with  pleas-  izth  o«. 
ure.  But  I  shall  tell  you  nothing  of  what  I  see  and 
do,  because  that  would  be  taking  off  some  of  the  edge 
from  your  pleasure  in  seeing  me.  One's  dear  friend 
who  has  nothing  at  all  to  tell  one  is  a  bore.  Is  it  not 
so,  honor  bright  ?  I  enjoy  talking  to  Mr.  Combe ;  he 


212  The  Combes.  [EDINBURGH, 

Letter  to    can  tell  me  many  things,  especially  about  men  in  Amer 

the  Brays,  . 

i2ti>  Oct.    ica  and  elsewhere,  which  are  valuable ;  and,  besides, 

1 052. 

I  sometimes  manage  to  get  in  more  than  a  negative  or 
affirmative.  He  and  Mrs.  Combe  are  really  affection- 
ate to  me,  and  the  mild  warmth  of  their  regard,  with 
the  perfect  order  and  elegance  of  everything  about 
me,  are  just  the  soothing  influence  to  do  me  good. 
They  urge  me  to  stay  longer,  but  I  shall  adhere  to  my 
original  determination  of  going  to  Miss  Martineau's 
on  the  zoth,  and  I  do  not  mean  to  stay  with  her  longer 
than  the  25th.  We  are  going  to-day  to  Craigcrook 
(Jeffrey's  place),  a  beautiful  spot,  which  old  October 
has  mellowed  into  his  richest  tints.  Such  a  view  of 
Edinburgh  from  it ! 
Letter  to  Those  who  know  the  article  on  Whewell  to  be 

Miss  Sara  . 

Henneii,    Mill's,  generally  think  it  good,  but  I  confess  to  me  it 

i2th  Oct. 

1X52.  is  unsatisfactory.  The  sun  does  shine  here,  albeit  this 
is  the  1 2th  October.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  view 
from  Salisbury  Crag. 

Letter  to        Yes,  he  is  an  apostle.     An  apostle,  it  is  true,  with  a 

Miss  Sara  ' 

Henneii,    back  and  front  drawing-room,  but  still  earnest,  con- 

igth  Oct. 

i8«          vinced,  consistent,  having  fought  a  good  fight,  and  now 
peacefully  enjoying  the  retrospect  of  it.     I  shall  leave 
these  good  friends  with  regret,  almost  with  repentings, 
that  I  did  not  determine  to  pay  them  a  longer  visit. 
I  have  had  a  pleasant  note  from  Miss  Martineau  this 
morning,  with  a  vignette  of  her  house — I  suppose  to 
make  me  like  all  the  better  the  idea  of  going  there. 
i.o!t«r  to        The  coach  brought  me  to  Miss  Martineau's  gate  at 
Thursday'  half-past  six  yesterday  evening,  and  she  was  there,  with 
Oct.  IssY  a  beaming  face,  to  welcome  me.    Mr.  Atkinson  joined 
us  this  morning,   and  is  a  very  agreeable  addition. 
There   has  been  an   intelligent  gentleman  visitor  to- 
day, who  is  interested  in  Miss  Martineau's  building 


1852.]  Return  to  London.  213 

society;  and  we  have  been  trudging  about,  looking  at  Letter  to 
cottages  and  enjoying  the  sight  of  the  mountains,  spite  Thursday' 

J    J  night,  22d 

of  the  rain  and  mist.  The  weather  is  not  promising,  that  Oct.  1852. 
is  the  worst  of  it.  Miss  M.  is  charming  in  her  own 
home — quite  handsome  from  her  animation  and  intel- 
ligence. She  came  behind  me,  put  her  hands  round 
me,  and  kissed  me  in  the  prettiest  way  this  evening, 
telling  me  she  was  so  glad  she  had  got  me  here.  I 
send  you  her  note  that  you  may  have  an  idea  of  "  The 
Knoll." 

We  had  a  fine  day  yesterday,  and  went  to  Borrow- Letter  to 

,  , ,  the  Brays, 

dale.     I  have  not  been  well  since  I  have  been  here.  24th  Oct. 
Still  I  manage  to  enjoy,  certainly  not  myself,  but  my 
companions  and  the  scenery.    I  shall  set  off  from  here 
on  Tuesday  morning,  and  shall  be  clue  at  the  Coventry 
station,  I  believe,  at  5.50. 

After  a  pleasant  ten  days'  visit  to  Rosehill,  Miss 
Evans  returned  to  London  on  the  3d  November. 
To  get  into  a  first-class  carriage,  fall  asleep,  and  awake  Letter  to 
to  find  one's  self  where  one  would  be,  is  almost  as  good  6th  NOV.  ' 
as  having  Prince  Hussein's  carpet.    This  was  my  easy 
way  of  getting  to  London  on  Thursday.     By  5  o'clock 
I  had  unpacked  my  boxes  and  made  my  room  tidy, 
and  then  I  began  to  feel  some  satisfaction  in  being 
settled  clown  where  I  am  of  most  use  just  now.     After 
dinner  came  Herbert  Spencer,  and  spent  the  evening. 
Yesterday  morning   Mr.  Greg  called  on   his  way  to 
Paris,  to  express  his  regret  that  he  did  not  see  me  at 
Ambleside.    He  is  very  pleasing,  but  somehow  or  other 
he  frightens  me  dreadfully.    I  am  going  to  plunge  into 
Thackeray's  novel  now  ("  Esmond  "). 

Oh,  this  hideous  fog  !     Let  me  grumble,  for  I  have  Letter  to 

the  Brays, 

had  headache  the  last  three  clays,  and  there  seems  lit-  Saturday, 

*    '  Nov.  (?) 

tie  prospect  of  anything  else  in  such  an  atmosphere.  "852- 


214         "Esmond" — Lord  Brougham.  [142  STRAND, 
Letter  to    I  am  readv  to  vow  that  I  will  not  live  in  the  Strand 

the  Brays,  * 

Saturday,  again  after  Christmas.     If  I  were  not  choked  by  the 

Nov.  (?)         e  J 

1852.  fog,  the  time  would  trot  pleasantly  withal,  but  of  what 
use  are  brains  and  friends  when  one  lives  in  a  light 
such  as  might  be  got  in  the  chimney?  "Esmond"  is 
the  most  uncomfortable  book  you  can  imagine.  You 
remember  how  you  disliked  "  Francois  le  Champi." 
Well,  the  story  of  "Esmond"  is  just  the  same.  The 
hero  is  in  love  with  the  daughter  all  through  the  book, 
and  marries  the  mother  at  the  end.  You  should  read 
the  debates  on  the  opening  of  Parliament  in  the  Times. 
Lord  Brougham,  the  greatest  of  English  orators,  per- 
petrates the  most  delicious  non  sequitur  I  have  seen 
for  a  long  time.  "  My  Lords,  1  believe  that  any  dis- 
turbance of  the  repose  of  the  world  is  very  remote,  be- 
cause it  is  our  undeniable  right  and  an  unquestionable 
duty  to  be  prepared  with  the  means  of  defence,  should 
such  an  event  occur."  These  be  thy  gods,  O  Israel  ! 
Letter  to  I  perceive  )'our  reading  of  the  golden  rule  is  "Do 
Monday,  as  you  are  done  by  :"  and  I  shall  be  wiser  than  to  ex- 

20th  Nov.          *  ' 

1852-  pect  a  letter  from  you  another  Monday  morning,  when 
I  have  not  earned  it  by  my  Saturday's  billet.  The  fact 
is,  both  callers  and  work  thicken — the  former  sadly 
interfering  with  the  latter.  I  will  just  tell  you  how  it 
was  last  Saturday,  and  that  will  give  you  an  idea  of 
my  days.  My  task  was  to  read  an  article  of  Greg's  in 
the  North  British  on  "Taxation,"  a  heap  of  newspaper 
articles,  and  all  that  J.  S.  Mill  says  on  the  same  sub- 
ject. When  I  had  got  some  way  into  this  magnum 
•mare,  in  comes  Mr.  Chapman,  with  a  thick  German 
volume.  "  Will  you  read  enough  of  this  to  give  me 
your  opinion  of  it  ?"  Then  of  course  I  must  have  a 
walk  after  lunch,  and  when  I  had  sat  down  again, 
thinking  that  I  had  two  clear  hours  before  dinner,  rap 


1852.]  Editor  s  Life.  215 

at  the  door — Mr.  Lewes,  who,  of  course,  sits  talking  Letter  to 
till  the  second  bell  rings.     After  dinner  another  vis-  Monday, ' 

20th  NOV. 

itor,  and  so  behold  me,  at  n  P.M.,  still  very  far  at  sea^. 
on  the  subject  of  Taxation,  but  too  tired  to  keep  my 
eyes  open.  We  had  Bryant  the  poet  last  evening — a 
pleasant,  quiet,  elderly  man.  Do  you  know  of  this 
second  sample  of  plagiarism  by  D'Israeli,  detected  by 
the  Morning  Chronicle  ?1  It  is  worth  sending  for  its 
cool  impudence.  Write  me  some  news  about  trade,  at 
all  events.  I  could  tolerate  even  Louis  Napoleon,  if 
somehow  or  other  he  could  have  a  favorable  influence 
on  the  Coventry  trade. 

Another  week  almost  "with  the  years  beyond  the  Letter  to 

the  Brays 

flood."  What  has  it  brought  you?  To  me  it  has 4th Dec. ' 
brought  articles  to  read — for  the  most  part  satisfac- 
tory—  new  callers,  and  letters  to  nibble  at  my  time, 
and  a  meeting  of  the  Association  for  the  Abolition  of 
Taxes  on  Knowledge.  I  am  invited  to  go  to  the  Leigh 
Smiths  on  Monday  evening  to  meet  Mr.  Robert  Noel. 
Herbert  Spencer  is  invited,  too,  because  Mr.  Noel 
wants  especially  to  see  him.  Barbara  Smith  speaks 
of  Mr.  R.  Noel  as  their  "  dear  German  friend."  So  the 
Budget  is  come  out,  and  I  am  to  pay  income-tax.  All 
very  right,  of  course.  An  enlightened  personage  like 
me  has  no  "ignorant  impatience  of  taxation."  I  am 
glad  to  hear  of  the  Lectures  to  Young  Men  and  the 
banquet  of  the  Laborers'  Friend  Society.  "  Be  not 
weary  in  well-doing."  Thanks  to  Sara  for  her  letter. 
She  must  not  mind  paying  the  income-tax;  it  is  a 
right  principle  that  Dizzy  is  going  upon;  and  with  her 
great  conscientiousness  she  ought  to  enjoy  being  flayed 
on  a  right  principle. 

1  Funeral  oration  on  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 


216          Mr.  Edward  Clarke  s  Death.  [142  STRAND, 
Letter  to        I  am  not  well — all  out  of  sorts — and  what  do  you 

the  Brays, 

icth  Dec.  think  I  am  minded  to  do  ?     Take  a  return  ticket,  and 
1852. 

set  off  by  the  train  to-morrow  12  o'clock,  have  a  talk 
with  you  and  a  blow  over  the  hill,  and  come  back 
relieved  on  Monday.  I  the  rather  indulge  myself  in 
this,  because  I  think  I  shall  not  be  able  to  be  with 
you  uniil  some  time  after  Christmas.  Pray  forgive 
me  for  not  sending  you  word  before.  I  have  only  just 
made  up  my  mind. 

This  visit  to  Rosehill  lasted  only  from  the  nth 

to  i3th  December,  and  the  following  short  note  is 

the  next  communication : 
Letter  to    I  am  very  wretched  to-day  on  many  accounts,  and  am 

Charles  *  J  J 

Bray,  i9th  only  able  to  write  you  two  or  three  lines.    I  have  heard 

(?)  Dec-  .  '  J 

1852-  this  morning  that  Mr.  Clarke  is  dangerously  ill.  Poor 
Chrissey  and  her  children.  Thank  you  for  your  kind 
letter. 

Letter  to        I  dare  say  you  will  have  heard,  before  you  receive 

Charles  '  J  * 

Bray,        this,  that  Edward  Clarke  is  dead.     I  am  to  go  to  the 

2ist  Dec. 

1852-  funeral,  which  will  take  place  on  Friday.  I  am  de- 
bating with  myself  as  to  what  I  ought  to  do  now  for 
poor  Chrissey,  but  I  must  wait  until  1  have  been  on 
the  spot  and  seen  my  brother.  If  you  hear  no  more 
from  me,  I  shall  trust  to  your  goodness  to  give  me  a 
bed  on  Thursday  night. 

Letter  to        Your  love  and  goodness  are  a  comforting  presence 

the  Brays, 

Christmas  to  me  everywhere,  whether  I  am  ninety  or  only  nine 
Dec.'  1852,  miles  away  from  you.    Chrissey  bears  her  trouble  much 
Meriden.    better  than  I  expected.     We  hope  that  an   advanta- 
geous arrangement  may  be  made  about  the  practice ; 
and  there  is  a  considerable  sum  in  debts  to  be  col- 
lected.    I   shall  return  to  town   on  Wednesday.     It 
would  have  been  a  comfort  to  see  you  again  before 
going  back,  but  there  are  many  reasons  for  not  doing 


1 853-1  Anxiety  for  Mr s.Clarke.  217 

so.     I  am  satisfied  now  that  my  duties  do  not  lie  here,  Letter  to 

J  '  the  Brays, 

though  the  dear  creatures  here  will  be  a  constant  mo-  Christmas 

Day,  asth 

tive  for  work  and  economy.  Dec.  1852. 

I  arrived  here  only  yesterday.     I  had  agreed  withLett£rto 

3    J  J  the  Brays, 

Chrissey  that,  all  things  considered,  it  was  wiser  for  me  3«t  Dec. 
to  return  to  town  ;  that  I  could  do  her  no  substantial 
good  by  staying  another  week,  while  I  should  be  los- 
ing time  as  to  other  matters. 

I   am   out  of  spirits  about  the  Review.     I   should  Better  to 

the  Brays, 

be  glad  to  run  away  from  it  altogether.  But  one  thing  7'h  Jail- 
is  clear,  that  it  would  be  a  great  deal  worse  if  I  were 
not  here.  This  is  the  only  thought  that  consoles  me. 
We  are  thinking  of  sending  Chrissey's  eldest  boy  to 
Australia.  A  patient  of  his  father's  has  offered  to 
place  him  under  suitable  protection  at  Adelaide,  and  I 
strongly  recommend  Chrissey  to  accept  her  offer — that 
is,  if  she  will  let  it  be  available  a  year  hence ;  so  I  have 
bought  Sidney's  book  on  Australia,  and  am  going  to 
send  it  to  Chrissey,  to  enlighten  her  about  matters 
there,  and  accustom  her  mind  to  the  subject.  You  are 
"jolly,"  I  dare  say,  as  good  people  have  a  right  to  be. 
Tell  me  as  much  of  your  happiness  as  you  can,  that  I 
may  rejoice  in  your  joy,  having  none  of  my  own. 

I  begin  to  feel  for  other  people's  wants  and  sorrows  Letter  to 
a  little  more  than  I  used  to  do.     Heaven  help  us  !  said  Jan.  1853.' 
the  old  religion  ;  the  new  one,  from  its  very  lack  of  that 
faith,  will  teach  us  all  the  more  to  help  one  another. 
Tell  Sara  she  is  as  good  as  a  group  of  spice-islands  to 
me ;  she  wafts  the  pleasantest  influences,  even  from  a 
distance. 

Pray  do  not  lay  the  sins  of  the  article  on  the  "  Atomic  Misslsara 
Theory  "  to  poor  Lewes's  charge.     How  you  could  take  "f£  jan  > 
it  for  his  I  cannot  conceive.     It  is  as  remote  from  his  l853- 
style,  both  of  thinking  and  writing,  as  anything  can  be. 
10 


218  III  with  Rheumatism.       [142  STRAND, 

This  week  has  yielded  nothing  to  me  but  a  crop  of 
very  large  headaches.     The  pain  has  gone  from  my 


head  at  last,  but  I  am  feeling  very  much  shattered, 
and  find  it  easier  to  cry  than  to  do  anything  else. 
Letter  to        My  complaint,  of  which  I  am  now  happily  rid,  was 

Mrs.  Peter  '  '     J 

Taylor,  rheumatism  in  the  right  arm  ;  a  sufficient  reason,  you 
'853-  will  see,  for  my  employing  a  scribe  to  write  that  prom- 
ise which  I  now  fulfil.  I  am  going  into  the  country, 
perhaps  for  a  fortnight,  so  that,  if  you  are  kind  enough 
to  come  here  on  Wednesday  evening,  I  shall  not  have 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  you.  All  the  more  reason  for 
writing  to  you,  in  spite  of  cold  feet  and  the  vilest  pens 
in  the  world. 

Francis  Newman  is  likely  to  come  once  or  twice  in 
the  season  ;  not  more.  He  has,  of  course,  a  multitude 
of  engagements,  and  many  more  attractive  ones  than  a 
soiree  in  the  Strand. 

Never  mention  me  to  him  in  the  character  of  edi- 
tress. I  think  —  at  least,  I  am  told  —  that  he  has  no  high 
estimate  of  woman's  powers  and  functions.  But  let 
that  pass.  He  is  a  very  pure,  noble  being,  and  it  is 
good  only  to  look  at  such. 

The  article  on  "  Slavery,"  in  the  last  number  of  the 
Westminster  —  which  I  think  the  best  article  of  them 
all  —  is  by  W.  E.  Forster,  a  Yorkshire  manufacturer, 
who  married  Dr.  Arnold's  daughter.  He  is  a  very 
earnest,  independent  thinker,  and  worth  a  gross  of  lit- 
erary hacks  who  have  the  "  trick  "  of  writing. 

I  hope  you  are  interested  in  the  Slavery  question, 
and  in  America  generally  —  that  cradle  of  the  future. 
I  used  resolutely  to  turn  away  from  American  politics, 
and  declare  that  the  United  States  was  the  last  region 
of  the  world  I  should  care  to  visit.  Even  now  I  almost 
loathe  the  common  American  type  of  character.  But  J 


1853.]  Interest  in  America.  219 

am  converted  to  a  profound  interest  in  the  history,  the  Le«er  to 

v  •> '  Mrs.  Peter 

laws,  the  social  and  religious  phases  of  North  America,  Taylor, 
and  long  for  some  knowledge  of  them.  1853. 

Is  it  not  cheering  to  think  of  the  youthfulness  of 
this  little  planet,  and  the  immensely  greater  youthful- 
ness  of  our  race  upon  it?  to  think  that  the  higher 
moral  tendencies  of  human  nature  are  yet  only  in  their 
germ  ?  I  feel  this  more  thoroughly  when  I  think  of 
that  great  western  continent,  with  its  infant  cities,  its 
huge,  uncleared  forests,  and  its  unamalgamated  races. 

I  dare  say  you  have  guessed  that  the  article  on  "  Ire- 
land" is  Harriet  Martineau's.  Herbert  Spencer  did 
not  contribute  to  the  last  number. 

A  propos  of  articles,  do  you  see  the  Prospective  Re- 
view ?  There  is  an  admirable  critique  of  Kingsley's 
"  Phaethon  "  in  it,  by  James  Martineau.  But  perhaps 
you  may  not  be  as  much  in  love  with  Kingsley's  gen- 
ius, and  as  much  "riled "  by  his  faults,  as  I  am. 

Of  course  you  have  read  "  Ruth  "  by  this  time.  Its 
style  was  a  great  refreshment  to  me,  from  its  finish 
and  fulness.  How  women  have  the  courage  to  write, 
and  publishers  the  spirit  to  buy,  at  a  high  price,  the 
false  and  feeble  representations  of  life  and  charac- 
ter that  most  feminine  novels  give,  is  a  constant  mar- 
vel to  me.  "  Ruth,"  with  all  its  merits,  will  not  be  an 
enduring  or  classical  fiction — will  it?  Mrs.  Gaskell 
seems  to  me  to  be  constantly  misled  by  a  love  of  sharp 
contrasts — of  "  dramatic  "  effects.  She  is  not  content- 
ed with  the  subdued  coloring,  the  half-tints,  of  real  life. 
Hence  she  agitates  one  for  the  moment,  but  she  does 
not  secure  one's  lasting  sympathy ;  her  scenes  and 
characters  do  not  become  typical.  But  how  pretty 
and  graphic  are  the  touches  of  description  !  That  lit- 
tle attic  in  the  minister's  house,  for  example,  which, 


220  "  Villctte  "—  Mr.  Huxley.     [142  STRAND, 

Letter  to    with  its  pure  white  dimity  bed-curtains,  its  bright-green 

Mrs.  Peter  ' 

Taylor,      walls,  and  the  rich  brown  of  its  stained  floor,  remind 

ist  Feb.  ' 

«8S3-  one  of  a  snowdrop  springing  out  of  the  soil.  Then  the 
rich  humor  of  Sally,  and  the  sly  satire  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  Mr.  Bradshaw.  Mrs.  Gaskell  has,  certainly,  a 
charming  mind,  and  one  cannot  help  loving  her  as  one 
reads  her  books. 

A  notable  book  just  come  out  is  Wharton's  "Sum- 
mary of  the  Laws  relating  to  Women."  "  Enfranchise- 
ment of  women  "  only  makes  creeping  progress  ;  and 
that  is  best,  for  woman  does  not  yet  deserve  a  much 
better  lot  than  man  gives  her. 

I  am  writing  to  you  the  last  thing,  and  am  so  tired 
that  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether  I  finish  my  sen- 
tences. But  your  divining  power  will  supply  their 
deficiencies. 

The  first  half  of  February  was  spent  in  visits  to 
the  Brays  and  to  Mrs.  Clarke,  at  Attleboro,  and 
on  returning  to  London  Miss  Evans  writes  : 
Letter  to    j  am  oniy  jusj  returned  to  a  sense  of  the  real  world 

Mrs.  Bray,  •    J 


aDOUt  me,  for  I  have  been  reading  "Villette,"  a  still 
1853. 

more  wonderful  book  than   "  Jane  Eyre."     There  is 
something  almost  preternatural  in  its  power. 
Letter  to        ]yjrs  ]?oiien  showed  me  a  delightful  letter  which  she 

the  Brays, 

igthFeb.   r,as  had  from   Mrs.  Stowe,  telling  all   about  herself. 
1853- 

She  begins  by  saying:  "  I  am  a  little  bit  of  a  woman, 

rather  more  than  forty,  as  withered  and  dry  as  a  pinch 
of  snuff;  never  very  well  worth  looking  at  in  my  best 
days,  and  now  a  decidedly  used-up  article."  The  whole 
letter  is  most  fascinating,  and  makes  one  love  her. 

"Villette,"  "Villette"—  have  you  read  it? 
Letter  to        \ye  had  an  agreeable  evening  on  Wednesday  —  a  Mr. 

the  Brays,  * 

2sth  Feb.    Huxley  being  the  centre  of  interest.     Since  then  I  have 

i8ij3.  *  & 

been  headachy  and  in  a  perpetual  rage  over  an  article 


i 853.]     Gr oiving  Intimacy  with  Mr.  Lewes.       221 

that  gives  me  no  end  of  trouble,  and  will  not  be  satis- Letter  to 

thi  Brays, 

factory  after  all.     I  should  like  to  stick  red-hot  skew-  25*  Feb. 

*  J&S3- 

ers  through  the  writer,  whose  style  is  as  sprawling  as 
his  handwriting.  For  the  rest,  I  am  in  excellent  spir- 
its, though  not  in  the  best  health  or  temper.  I  am  in 
for  loads  of  work  next  quarter,  but  I  shall  not  tell  you 
what  I  am  going  to  do. 

I  have  been  ready  to  tear  my  hair  with  disappoint- Letter  to 

J  J  the  Brays, 

ment  about  the  next  number  of  the  Review.     In  short,  J9th  Mch. 

1833. 
I  am  a  miserable  editor.     I  think  I  shall  never  have 

the  energy  to  move — it  seems  to  be  of  so  little  conse- 
quence where  I  am  or  what  I  do. 

On  Saturday  I  was  correcting  proofs  literally  from  ^e-ttecto 
morning  till  night ;  yesterday  ditto.  The  Review  will  He^11>h 
be  better  than  I  once  feared,  but  not  so  good  as  I  once  I8S3- 
hoped.  I  suppose  the  weather  has  chilled  your  char- 
ity as  well  as  mine.  I  am  very  hard  and  Mephisto- 
phelian  just  now,  but  I  lay  it  all  to  this  second  winter. 
We  had  a  pleasant  evening  last  Wednesday.  Lewes, 
as  always,  genial  and  amusing.  He  has  quite  won  my 
liking,  in  spite  of  myself.  Of  course,  Mr.  Bray  highly 
approves  the  recommendation  of  the  Commissioners 
on  Divorce.  I  have  been  to  Blandford  Square  (Leigh 
Smith's)  to  an  evening  party  this  week.  Dined  at  Mr. 
Parkes's  on  Sunday,  and  am  invited  to  go  there  again 
to-night  to  meet  the  Smiths.  Lewes  was  describing 
Currer  Bell  to  me  yesterday  as  a  little,  plain,  provin- 
cial, sickly  looking  old  maid.  Yet  what  passion,  what 
fire  in  her !  Quite  as  much  as  in  George  Sand,  only 
the  clothing  is  less  voluptuous. 

What  do  you  think  of  my  going  to  Australia  with  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

Chrissey  and  all  her  family? — to  settle  them,  and  then  Henneii, 

*  nth  April, 

come  back.     I  am  just  going  to  write  to  her,  and  sug- 1853. 
gest  the  idea.     One  wants  something  to  keep  up  one's 


222         Admiration  for  Helen  Faucit.  [142  STRAND, 

faith  in  happiness — a  ray  or  two  for  one's  friends,  if 
not  for  one's  self. 

Mrc.CBra  ^e  kac'  an  agreeable  soiree  last  Wednesday.  I  fell 
i6th  April,  jn  iove  w|tn  Helen  Faucit.  She  is  the  most  poetic 
woman  I  have  seen  for  a  long  time ;  there  is  the  ineffa- 
ble charm  of  a  fine  character  which  makes  itself  felt  in 
her  face,  voice,  and  manner.  I  am  taking  doses  of 
agreeable  follies,  as  you  recommend.  Last  night  I 
went  to  the  French  theatre,  and  to-night  I  am  going 
to  the  opera  to  hear  "  William  Tell."  People  are  very 
good  to  me.  Mr.  Lewes,  especially,  is  kind  and  atten- 
tive, and  has  quite  won  my  regard,  after  having  had 
a  good  deal  of  my  vituperation.  Like  a  few  other  peo- 
ple in  the  world,  he  is  much  better  than  he  seems.  A 
man  of  heart  and  conscience,  wearing  a  mask  of  flip- 
pancy. When  the  warm  days  come,  and  the  bearskin 
is  under  the  acacia,  you  must  have  me  again. 

6th  May. — Went  to  Rosehill  and  returned  on  23d 
to  Strand. 
Letterto    Qn  Wednesday  I  dined  at  Sir  Tames  Clark's,  where 

Mrs,  i>ray, 

i7th  June,  tiie  Combes  are  staying,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  even- 
ing. The  Combes  have  taken  lodgings  in  Oxford  Ter- 
race, where  I  mean  to  go.  It  is  better  than  the  Strand 
— trees  waving  before  the  windows,  and  no  noise  of 
omnibuses.  Last  Saturday  evening  I  had  quite  a  new 
pleasure.  We  went  to  see  Rachel  again,  and  sat  on 
the  stage  between  the  scenes.  When  the  curtain  fell 
we  walked  about  and  saw  the  green-room,  and  all  the 
dingy,  dusty  paraphernalia  that  make  up  theatrical 
splendor.  I  have  not  yet  seen  the  "  Vashti "  of  Currer 
Bell  in  Rachel,  though  there  was  some  approach  to  it 

Miss'sara  'n  Adricnne  Lecouvreur. 

Sth Tune       <">n  Saturday  we  will  go  to  Ockley,  near  Dorking, 

1853-        where  are  staying  Miss  Julia  Smith,  Barbara  Smith, 


1853-]  Visit  to  St.  Leonards.  223 

and  Bessie  Parkes.     I  shall  write  to  the  Ockley  party  Letter  to 

'   Miss  Sara 

to-day  and  tell  them  of  the  probability  that  they  will  Henneii, 

J  *.  3  28th  June, 

see  you.  1853. 

I  never  felt  the  delight  of  the  thorough  change  that  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Bray 

the  coast  gives  one  so  much  as  now,  and  I  shall  be  3d  Aug. 

1853,  from 

longing  to  be  off  with  you  again  in  October.  I  am  on  st.Leon- 
a  delightful  hill  looking  over  the  heads  of  the  houses, 
and  having  a  vast  expanse  of  sea  and  sky  for  my  only 
view.  The  bright  weather  and  genial  air — so  different 
from  what  I  have  had  for  a  year  before — make  me  feel 
as  happy  and  stupid  as  a  well-conditioned  cow.  I  sit 
looking  at  the  sea  and  the  sleepy  ships  with  a  purely 
animal  bien  etre. 

It  would  have  been  a  satisfaction  to  your  benevo- Letter  to 
lence  to  see  me  sitting  on  the  beach  laughing  at  the  9th Aug.' 
Herald's  many  jokes,  and  sympathizing  with  your  in- 
dignation against  Judge  Maule.  It  always  helps  me 
to  be  happy  when  I  know  that  you  are  so;  but  I  do 
not  choose  to  vindicate  myself  against  doubts  of  that, 
because  it  is  unworthy  of  you  to  entertain  them.  I  am 
going  on  as  well  as  possible  physically — really  getting 
stout.  I  should  like  to  have  a  good  laugh  with  you 
immensely.  How  nice  it  would  be  to  meet  you  and 
Cara  on  the  beach  this  evening,  and  instead  of  send- 
ing you  such  a  miserable  interpreter  of  one's  feelings 
as  a  letter,  give  you  the  look  and  the  hand  of  warm  af- 
fection !  This  British  Channel  really  looks  as  blue  as 
the  Mediterranean  to-day.  What  weather ! 

For  the  first  time  in  my  experience  I  am  positively  Letter  to 
revelling  in  the  Prospective.      James  Martineau  tran-  Kennel"1" 
scends  himself  in  beauty  of  imagery  in  the  article  on  1853. 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  but  I  have  not  finished  him  yet. 
Yesterday  it  rained  sans  intermission,  and  of  course  I 
said  cut  bono?  and  found  my  troubles  almost  more  than 


224  "Prospective  Review"  on  Goethe.  [ST.  LEONARDS, 
Letter  to    I  could  bear:  but  to-day  the  sun  shines,  and  there  is 

Miss  S.IM  * 

Henneii,    blue  above  and  blue  below,  consequently  I  find  life 

iSth  Aug.  * 

5853-  very  glorious,  and  myself  a  particularly  fortunate  dia- 
volessa.  The  landlord  of  my  lodgings  is  a  German, 
comes  from  Saxe-Weimar,  knows  well  the  Duchess  of 
Orleans,  and  talked  to  me  this  morning  of  Mr.  Schiller 
and  Mr.  Goethe.  A  propos  of  Goethe,  there  is  a  most 
true,  discriminating  passage  about  him  in  the  article 
on  Shakespeare  in  the  Prospective.  Mr.  Goethe  is  one 
of  my  companions  here,  and  I  had  felt  some  clays  be- 
fore reading  the  passage  the  truth  which  it  expresses. 

Subjoined  is  the  passage  from  the  Prospective  Re- 
view of  August,  1853  : 

"  Goethe's  works  are  too  much  in  the  nature  of 
literary  studies ;  the  mind  is  often  deeply  impressed 
by  them,  but  one  doubts  if  the  author  was.  He 
saw  them  as  he  saw  the  houses  of  Weimar  and  the 
plants  in  the  act  of  metamorphosis.  He  had  a 
clear  perception  of  their  fixed  condition  and  their 
successive  transitions,  but  he  did  not  really  (at  least 
so  it  seems  to  us)  comprehend  their  motive  power. 
In  a  word,  he  appreciated  their  life  but  not  their 
liveliness.  .  .  .  And  we  trace  this  not  to  a  defect  in 
imaginative  power — a  defect  which  it  would  be  a 
simple  absurdity  to  impute  to  Goethe — but  to  the 
tone  of  his  character  and  the  habits  of  his  mind. 
He  moved  hither  and  thither  through  life,  but  he 
was  always  a  man  apart.  He  mixed  with  unnum- 
bered kinds  of  men,  with  courts  and  academies, 
students  and  women,  camps  and  artists,  but  every- 
where he  was  with  them,  yet  not  of  them.  In  every 
scene  he  was  there,  and  he  made  it  clear  that  he 
was  there  with  a  reserve  and  as  a  stranger.  He 
went  there  to  experience.  As  a  man  of  univeisal 


Change  of  Lodgings.  225 

culture,  and  well  skilled  in  the  order  and  classifica- 
tion of  human  life,  the  fact  of  any  one  class  or 
order  being  beyond  his  reach  or  comprehension 
seemed  an  absurdity;  and  it  was  an  absurdity.    He 
thought  that  he  was  equal  to  moving  in  any  de-  - 
scription  of  society,  and  he  was  equal  to  it ;  but 
then,  on  that  account,  he  was  absorbed  in  none." 
As  for  me,  I  am  in  the  best  health  and  spirits.    I  have  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Combe  to-day,  urging  me  to  go  Henneii, 

igth  Sept 

to  Edinburgh,  but  I  have  made  an  engagement  with  1853- 
Mr.  Chapman  to  do  work  which  will  oblige  me  to  re- 
main in  London.  Mrs.  P.  is  a  very  bonny,  pleasant 
looking-woman,  with  a  smart  drawing-room  and  liberal 
opinions — in  short,  such  a  friend  as  self-interest,  well 
understood,  would  induce  one  to  cultivate.  I  find  it 
difficult  to  meet  with  any  lodgings  at  once  tolerable 
and  cheap.  My  theory  is  to  live  entirely — that  is,  pay 
rent  and  find  food  —  out  of  my  positive  income,  and 
then  work  for  as  large  a  surplus  as  I  can  get.  The 
next  number  of  the  Review  will  be  better  than  usual. 
Froude  writes  on  the  "  Book  of  Job  "  !  He  at  first  talked 
of  an  article  on  the  three  great  subjective  poems — Job, 
Faust,  and  Hamlet — an  admirable  subject — but  it  has 
shrunk  to  the  Book  of  Job  alone. 

I  have  been  busied  about  my  lodgings  all  afternoon.  Letter  to 

.  .  ,,  .         ~         '     ,  Miss  Sara 

I  am  not  going  to  Albion  Street,  but  to  21  Cambridge  Henneii, 
Street,  Hyde  Park  Square.    I  hope  you  will  be  pleased  1853. 
with  our  present  number.      If  you  don't   think  the 
"Universal  Postulate"  first-rate,  I  shall  renounce  you 
as  a  critic.     Why  don't  you  write  grumbling  letters  to 
me  when  you  are  out  of  humor  with  life,  instead  of 
making  me  ashamed  of  myself  for  ever  having  grum- 
bled to  you  ?     I  have  been  a  more  good-for-nothing 
correspondent  than  usual  lately ;  this  affair  of  getting 
10* 


226        " Religion  of  the  Heart."  [2Z  CAMBRIDGE  ST., 

letter  to    lodgings,  added  to  my  other  matters,  has  taken  up  my 
Henneii,    time  and  thoughts.     I  have  promised  to  do  some  work 

ist  Oct.  ' 

'853-  to-night  and  to-morrow  for  a  person1  who  is  rather 
more  idle  than  myself,  so  I  have  not  a  moment  to 
spare. 

Letter  to        I  am  reading  "The  Religion  of  the  Heart"  (Leigh 
Henneii,    Hunt's),  and  am  far  more  pleased  with  it  than  I  ex- 

zad  Oct 

»853-  pected  to  be.  I  have  just  fallen  on  two  passages  with 
which  you  will  agree.  "  Parker  ...  is  full  of  the  po- 
etry of  religion ;  Martineau  equally  so,  with  a  closer 
style  and  incessant  eloquence  of  expression,  perhaps  a 
perilous  superabundance  of  it  as  regards  the  claims  of 
matter  over  manner;  and  his  assumptions  of  perfec- 
tion in  the  character  of  Jesus  are  so  reiterated  and 
peremptory  that  in  a  man  of  less  evident  heart  and 
goodness  they  might  almost  look  like  a  very  unction 
of  insincerity  or  of  policy,  of  doubt  forcing  itself  to 
seem  undoubting.  Hennell's  '  Christian  Theism  '  is 
one  long,  beautiful  discourse  proclaiming  the  great 
Bible  of  Creation,  and  reconciling  Pagan  and  Christian 
Philosophy." 

Good  Sir  James  Clark  stopped  me  in  the  Park  yes- 
terday, as  I  was  sauntering  along  with  eyes  on  the 
clouds,  and  made  very  fatherly  inquiries  about  me, 
urging  me  to  spend  a  quiet  evening  with  him  and 
Lady  Clark  next  week — which  I  will  certainly  do;  for 
they  are  two  capital  people,  without  any  snobbery.  I 
like  my  lodgings  —  the  housekeeper  cooks  charming 
little  dinners  for  me,  and  I  have  not  one  disagreeable 
to  complain  of  at  present,  save  such  as  are  inseparable 
from  a  ground-floor. 

Letter  to        Last  night  I  saw  the  first  fine  specimen  of  a  man  in 

Mr  Bray, 

2qth  Oct. 

•853- 

1  Correcting  Leader  proofs  for  Mr.  Lewes. 


1853.]  Herbert  Spencer  s  "  Universal  Postulate"  227 

the  shape  of  a  clergyman  that  I  ever  met  with — Dawes,  Letter  to 

**  '  Mr.  Bray, 

the  Dean  of  Hereford.     He  is  the  man  who  has  been  29th  Oct. 

1853. 
making  the  experiment  of  mingling  the  middle  and 

lower  classes  in  schools.  He  has  a  face  so  intelligent 
and  benignant  that  children  might  grow  good  by  look- 
ing at  it.  Harriet  Martineau  called  yesterday.  She 
is  going  to  her  brother's  at  Birmingham  soon. 

Mr.  Lewes  was  at  Cambridge  about  a  fortnight  ago,  Letter  to 
and  found  that  Herbert  Spencer  was  a  great  deal  talked  Henneii, 

3d  Nov. 

of  there  for  the  article  on  the  "  Universal  Postulate,"  1853. 
as  well  as  other  things.  Mr.  Lewes  himself  has  a  knot 
of  devotees  there  who  make  his  "  History  of  Philoso- 
phy" a  private  text-book.  Miss  Martineau's  "Comte" 
is  out  now.  Do  you  mean  to  do  it  ?  or  Mr.  Lewes's  ? 
We  can  get  no  one  to  write  an  article  on  Comte  for 
the  next  number  of  the  Westminster — Bain,  our  last 
hope,  refusing. 

I  think  you  would  find  some  capital  extracts  for  the  Letter  to 

J  Mr.  Bray, 

Herald  (Coventry),  in  the  article  on  "  Church  Parties  "  sth  NOV. 
in  the  Edinburgh.  The  Record  is  attempting  a  reply 
to  it,  in  which  it  talks  of  the  truculent  infidelity  of  Vol- 
taire AND  Robespierre !  Has  A.  sent  you  his  book  on 
the  Sabbath  ?  If  ever  I  write  a  book  I  will  make  a 
present  of  it  to  nobody ;  it  is  the  surest  way  of  taking 
off  the  edge  of  appetite  for  it,  if  no  more.  I  am  as 
well  as  possible;  and  certainly,  when  I  put  my  head 
into  the  house  in  the  Strand,  I  feel  that  I  have  gained, 
or,  rather,  escaped,  a  great  deal  physically  by  my  change. 
Have  you  known  the  misery  of  writing  with  a  tired 
steel  pen,  which  is  reluctant  to  make  a  mark  ?  If  so, 
you  will  know  why  I  leave  off. 

Chrissey  has  just  sent  me  a  letter,  which  tells  that  Letter 

~     .  to  Mrs. 

you  have  been  suffering  severely,  and  that  you  are  yet  Houston 
very  ill.    I  must  .satisfy  my  own  feelings  by  telling  you  "853. 


228  Harriet  Martineau — Comtc.  [21  CAMBRIDGE  ST., 

I^tter       that  I  grieve  at  this,  though  it  will  do  you  little  good 
HotiRhton,  to  know  it.     Still,  when  /am  suffering,  I  do  care  for 

7th  Nov. 

l8S3  sympathy,  and  perhaps  you  are  of  the  same  mind.  If 
so,  think  of  me  as  your  loving  sister,  who  remembers 
all  your  kindness  to  her,  all  the  pleasant  hours  she  has 
had  with  you,  and  every  little  particular  of  her  inter- 
course with  you,  however  long  and  far  she  may  have 
been  removed  from  you.  Dear  Fanny,  I  can  never  be 
indifferent  to  your  happiness  or  sorrow,  and  in  this 
present  sad  affliction  my  thoughts  and  love  are  with 
you.  I  shall  tease  you  with  no  words  about  myself 
now — perhaps  by  and  by  it  will  amuse  you  to  have  a 
longer  letter. 

Letter  to        Hitherto  I  have  been  spending  £q  per  month — at 

Mr.  Bray, 

8th  NOV.  ieast  after  that  rate — but  I  have  had  frequent  guests. 
I  am  exceedingly  comfortable,  and  feel  quite  at  home 
now.  Harriet  Martineau  has  been  very  kind — called 
again  on  Tuesday,  and  yesterday  sent  to  invite  me  to 
go  to  Lady  Compton's,  where  she  is  staying,  on  Satur- 
day evening.  This,  too,  in  spite  of  my  having  vexed 
her  by  introducing  Mr.  Lewes  to  her,  which  I  did  as  a 
desirable  bit  of  peacemaking. 

Letter  to        I  begin  this  year  more  happily  than  I  have  done 

Miss  Sara  J  rr   J 

Henneii,    most  years  of  my  life.     "  Notre  vraie  destinee,"  says 

22d  Nov. 

1 1853  (thir-  Comte,  "  se  compose  de  resignation  et  (Tactivite  " — and 

tv-fourth  . 

birthday).  I  seem  more  disposed  to  both  than  I  have  ever  been 
before.  Let  us  hope  that  we  shall  both  get  stronger  by 
the  year's  activity — calmer  by  its  resignation.  I  know 
it  may  be  just  the  contrary — don't  suspect  me  of  being 
a  canting  optimist.  We  may  both  find  ourselves  at 
the  end  of  the  year  going  faster  to  the  hell  of  con- 
scious moral  and  intellectual  weakness.  Still,  there 
is  a  possibility — even  a  probability — the  other  way.  I 
have  not  seen  Harriet  Martineau's  "Comte"  yet — she 


l853-J  "Idea  of  a  Future  Life."  229 

is  going  to  give  me  a  copy — but  Mr.  Lewes  tells  me  it  Letter  to 

V3  Miss  Sara 

seems  to  him  admirably  well  done.     I  told  Mr.  Chap-  Heimeii, 

22Q  NOV. 

man  yesterday  that  I  wished  to  give  up  my  connection  l853- 
with  the  editorship  of  the  Westminster.  He  wishes  me 
to  continue  the  presenj  state  of  things  until  April.  I 
shall  be  much  more  satisfied  on  many  accounts  to  have 
done  with  that  affair ;  but  I  shall  find  the  question  of 
supplies  rather  a  difficult  one  this  year,  as  I  am  not 
likely  to  get  any  money  either  for  "  Feuerbach  "  or  for 
"The  Idea  of  a  Future  Life,"  1  for  which  I  am  to  have 
"half  profits  "=£  ! 

I  hope  you  will  appreciate  this  bon-mot  as  I  do — 
"  C'est  un  homme  admirable — il  se  tail  en  sept  Ian- 
gues!'" 

I  am  going  to  detail  all  my  troubles  to  you.     In  the  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Bray, 

first  place,  the  door  of  my  sitting-room  doesn't  quite  fit,  zd  Dec. 
and  a  draught  is  the  consequence.  Secondly,  there  is 
a  piano  in  the  house  which  has  decidedly  entered  on 
its  second  childhood,  and  this  piano  is  occasionally 
played  on  by  Miss  P.  with  a  really  enviable  aplomb. 
Thirdly,  the  knocks  at  the  door  startle  me — an  annoy- 
ance inseparable  from  a  ground-floor  room.  Fourthly, 
Mrs.  P.  scolds  the  servants  stringendo  e  fortissimo  while 
I  am  dressing  in  the  morning.  Fifthly — there  is  no 
fifthly.  I  really  have  not  another  discomfort  when  I 
am  well,  which,  alas  !  I  have  not  been  for  the  last  ten 
days  ;  so,  while  I  have  been  up  to  the  chin  in  possibil- 
ities of  enjoyment,  I  have  been  too  sick  and  headachy 
to  use  them.  One  thing  is  needful — a  good  digestion. 

Spent  Christmas  Day  alone  at  Cambridge  Street.  Letter  to 

J  &  Mrs.  I'.ra 


1  Advertised  in  1853-54  as  to  appear  by  "  Marian  Evans"  in  l8S3- 
"  Chapman's  Quarterly  Series,"  but  never  published. 

9  Lord  Acton  tells  me  he  first  heard  this  bon-mot,  in  1855,  relat- 
ed of  Immanuel  Bekker,  the  philologist. 


y 
2.8ih  Dec. 


230  Meets  Arthur  Helps.  [21  CAMBRIDGE  ST, 

tetter  to    How  shall  I  thank  you  enough  for  sending  me  that 

Mrs.  Itray,  ' 

asth  Dec.  splendid  barrel  of  beet-root,  so  nicely  packed  ?  I  shall 
certainly  eat  it  and  enjoy  it,  which,  I  fancy,  is  the  end 
you  sought,  and  not  thanks.  Don't  suppose  that  I  am 
looking  miserable — au  contraire.  My  only  complaints 
just  now  are  idleness  and  dislike-to-getting-up-in-the- 
morningness,  whereby  the  day  is  made  too  short  for 
what  I  want  to  do.  I  resolve  every  day  to  conquer  the 
flesh  the  next,  and,  of  course,  am  a  little  later  in  conse- 
quence. I  dined  with  Arthur  Helps  yesterday  at  Sir 
James  Clark's — very  snug — only  he  and  myself.  He 
is  a  sleek  man,  with  close-snipped  hair  ;  has  a  quiet, 
humorous  way  of  talking,  like  his  books. 

At  the  beginning  of  January,  1854,  there  was  an- 
other visit  to  Mrs.  Clarke,  at  Attleboro,  for  ten  days. 

Letter  to    In  the  last  number  of  the  Scotsman  which  I  sent  you 

Charles 

Bray,  6th    there  was  3.  report  of  a  speech  by  Dr.  Guthrie  at  the 

Feb.  1854. 

Education  meeting,  containing  a  passage  which  I  meant 
to  have  copied.  He  is  speaking  of  the  impossibility  of 
teaching  morality  with  the  "  Bible  shut."  and  says  that 
in  that  case  the  teacher  would  be  obliged  to  resort  to 
"congruity  and  the  fitness  of  things,"  about  which  the 
boy  knows  nothing  more  than  that  the  apple  isyfr  for 
his  mouth.  What  is  wanted  to  convince  the  boy  of  his 
sin  is,  "Thou  God  seest  me,"  and  "Thou  bleeding 
Lamb,  the  best  morality  is  love  of  thee  !"  Mr.  Lewes 
came  a  few  minutes  after  you  left,  and  desired  me  to 
tell  you  that  he  was  sorry  to  miss  you. 

Letter  Thank  you  for  your  very  kind  letter,  which  I  re- 

Houghtpn,  ceived  this  morning.     It  is  pleasant  to  think  of  you 

6th  April,  ,  .....  , 

as  quite  well,  and  enjoying  your  sea-breezes. 

But  do  you  imagine  me  sitting  with  my  hands  crossed, 
ready  to  start  for  any  quarter  of  the  world  at  the 
shortest  notice.  It  is  not  on  those  terms  that  people, 


1854.]  Mr.  Lewes  III,  231 

not  rich,  live  in  London.     I  shall  be  deep  in  proof-  Letter 

r  *•  to  Mrs. 

sheets  till  the  end  of  May,  and  shall  only  dismiss  them  Houghton, 

6th  April, 

to  make  material  for  new  ones.  I  dare  say  you  will  i«54- 
pity  me.  But,  as  one  of  Balzac's  characters  says,  after 
maturity,  "  La  vie  n'est  que  1'exercice  d'une  habitude 
dans  un  milieu  pr^fere;"  and  I  could  no  more  live 
out  of  my  milieu  than  the  haddocks  I  dare  say  you  are 
often  having  for  dinner. 

My  health  is  better.  I  had  got  into  a  labyrinth  of 
headaches  and  palpitations,  but  I  think  I  am  out  of  it 
now,  and  I  hope  to  keep  well.  I  am  not  the  less  obliged 
to  you,  dear  Fanny,  for  wishing  to  have  me  with 
you.  But  to  leave  London  now  would  not  be  agree- 
able to  me,  even  if  it  were  morally  possible.  To  see 
you  again  would  certainly  be  a  pleasure,  but  I  hope 
that  will  come  to  pass  without  my  crossing  the  Irish 
Channel. 

I  am  rather  overdone  with  the  week's  work,  and  the  Letter  to 

-      ,  -„  T  ...    Mrs.  Bra 

prospect  of  what  is  to  come  next.  Poor  Lewes  is  ill,  Saturday 
and  is  ordered  not  to  put  pen  to  paper  for  a  month ;  ^854.  P' 
so  I  have  something  to  do  for  him  in  addition  to  my 
own  work,  which  is  rather  pressing.  He  is  gone  to 
Arthur  Helps,  in  Hampshire,  for  ten  days,  and  I  really 
hope  this  total  cessation  from  work,  in  obedience  to  a 
peremptory  order,  will  end  in  making  him  better  than 
he  has  been  for  the  last  year.  No  opera  and  no  fun 
for  me  for  the  next  month.  Happily,  I  shall  have  no 
time  to  regret  it.  Plenty  of  bright  sun  on  your  anem- 
one bed.  How  lovely  your  place  must  look,  with  its 
fresh  leaves ! 

It  is  quite  possible  that  I  may  wish  to  go  to  the  Letter  to 

H,          T  •  Charl6S 

Continent,  or  twenty  other  things.     Mr.  Lewes  is  going  Rray,  23 
on  a  walking  excursion  to  Windsor  to-day  with    his 
doctor,  who  pronounces  him  better,  but  not  yet  fit  for 


232  Psychical  Troubles.  [21  CAMBRIDGE  ST., 

Letter  to    work.     However,  he  is  obliged  to  do  a  little,  and  must 

Charles 

Bray,  asd  content  himself  with  an  approximation  to  his  doctor's 

May,  1854. 

directions.     In    this  world  all  things  are  approxima- 
tions, and  in  the  system  of  the  Dog  Star  too,  in  spite 
of  Dr.  Whewell. 
Letter  to        My  troubles  are  purely  psychical — self-dissatisfac- 

Mrs.  Bray,  '  J    r   J 

Friday,      tjonj  and  despair  of  achieving  anything  worth  the  doing. 
I8S4-         I  can  truly  say  they  vanish  into  nothing  before  any  fear 
for  the  happiness  of  those  I  love.     Thank  you  for  let- 
ting me  know  how  things  are,  for  indeed  I  could  not 
bear  to   be  shut  out  from   your  anxieties.     When    I 
spoke  of  myself  as  an  island,  I  did  not  mean  that  I 
was  so  exceptionally.     We  are  all  islands — 
"Each  in  his  hidden  sphere  of  joy  or  woe, 

Our  hermit  spirits  dwell  and  roam  apart " — 

and  this  seclusion  is  sometimes  the  most  intensely  felt 
at  the  very  moment  your  friend  is  caressing  you  or 
consoling  you.  But  this  gradually  becomes  a  source  of 
satisfaction  instead  of  repining.  When  we  are  young 
we  think  our  troubles  a  mighty  business — that  the 
world  is  spread  out  expressly  as  a  stage  for  the  particu- 
lar drama  of  our  lives,  and  that  we  have  a  right  to  rant 
and  foam  at  the  mouth  if  we  are  crossed.  I  have  done 
enough  of  that  in  my  time.  But  we  begin  at  last  to 
understand  that  these  things  are  important  only  to  our 
own  consciousness,  which  is  but  as  a  globule  of  dew  on 
a  rose-leaf,  that  at  mid-clay  there  will  be  no  trace  of. 
This  is  no  high-flown  sentimentality,  but  a  simple  re- 
flection, which  I  find  useful  to  me  every  day.  I  expect 
to  see  Mr.  Lewes  back  again  to-day.  His  poor  head 
— his  only  fortune — is  not  well  yet ;  and  he  has  had  the 
misery  of  being  ennuye  with  idleness,  without  perceiving 
the  compensating  physical  improvement.  Still,  I  hope 
the  good  he  has  been  getting  has  been  greater  than 


1854.]         "Sunshine  through  the  Clouds"  233 

he  has  been  conscious  of.     I  expect  "  Feuerbach  "  will  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Bray, 

be  all  in  print  by  the  end  of  next  week,  and  there  are  Friday, 

no  date, 

no  skippings,  except  such  as  have  been  made  on  very  '854- 
urgent  grounds. 

Thanks  for  your  assurance  of  welcome.     I  will  trust  Le«er  to 

•  Mrs.  Bray, 

to  it  when  the  gods  send  favorable  circumstances.    But  Tuesday,' 

6th  June, 

I  see  no  probability  oC  my  being  able  to  be  with  you  '854- 
before  your  other  midsummer  visitors  arrive.     I   de- 
light to  think  that  you  are  all  a  little  more  cheery. 

I  reached  the  Euston  Station  as  dusty  as  an  old  led-  Jvette^to 

•  Mrs.  Bray, 

ger,  but  with  no  other  "  incommodity."  I  went  to  the  Ly-  ^ed"gth 
ceum  last  night  to  see  "  Sunshine  through  the  Clouds," l  June>  l85-»- 
a  wonderfully  original  and  beautiful  piece  by  Mine,  de 
Girardin,  which  makes  one  cry  rather  too  much  for 
pleasure.  Vestris  acts  finely  the  bereaved  mother, 
passing  through  all  the  gradations  of  doubt  and  hope 
to  the  actual  recovery  of  her  lost  son.  My  idea  of  you 
is  rather  bright  just  now,  and  really  helps  to  make  me 
enjoy  all  that  is  enjoyable.  That  is  part  of  the  benefit 
I  have  had  from  my  pleasant  visit,  which  was  made  up 
of  sunshine,  green  fields,  pleasant  looks,  and  good  eat- 
ables— an  excellent  compound.  Will  you  be  so  kind 
as  to  send  my  books  by  railway,  without  the  Shelley  ? 

Pray  consider  the  Strauss   MSS.  waste   paper.     /f,ett"to 

J  Mrs.  Bray 

shall  never  want  them  again.     I  dined  with  your  old  ac-  Monday, 
quaintance,  Dr.  Conolly,  at  Sir  James  Clark's,  the  other  I8S4- 
day.    He  took  me  down  to  dinner,  and  we  talked  of  you. 
The  translation  of  Ludwig  Feuerbach's  "  Wesen 
des    Christenthums "  was    published    in   July   in 
"  Chapman's  Quarterly  Series,"  with  Miss  Evans's 
name  on  the  titlepage  as  the  translator,  the  first 
and  only  time  her  real  name  appeared  in  print. 

1  Translated  and  adapted  from  the  French,  "  La  joie  fait  peur," 
by  Mr.  Lewes,  under  the  name  of  Slingsby  Lawrence. 


234  Herbert  Spencer.  (21  CAMBRIDGE  ST., 

Letter  to    I  am    jroing  to   pack  up  the  Hebrew  Grammar,  the 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,  Apocryphal  Gospels,  and  your  pretty  Titian,  to  be  sent 
>8s4-  to  you.  Shall  I  despatch  them  by  rail  or  deposit  them 
with  Mr.  Chapman,  to  be  asked  for  by  Mr.  Bray  when 
he  comes  to  town  ?  I  shall  soon  send  you  a  good- 
bye, tor  I  am  preparing  to  go  abroad  (?).  Herbert 
Spencer's  article  on  the  "Genesis  of  Science"  is  a  good 
one.  He  will  stand  in  the  Biographical  Dictionaries 
of  1954  as  "  Spencer,  Herbert,  an  original  and  pro- 
found philosophical  writer,  especially  known  by  his 
great  work,  .  .  .  which  gave  a  new  impulse  to  psychol- 
ogy, and  has  mainly  contributed  to  the  present  ad- 
vanced position  of  that  science,  compared  with  that 
which  it  had  attained  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century. 
The  life  of  this  philosopher,  like  that  of  the  great 
Kant,  offers  little  material  for  the  narrator.  Born  in 
the  year  1820,"  etc. 
Letter  to  Dear  friends — all  three — I  have  only  time  to  say 

the  Brays, 

2oth  July,  good-bye,  and  God  bless  you.  Poste Rcstante,  Weimar, 
for  the  next  six  weeks,  and  afterwards  Berlin.  Ever 
your  loving  and  grateful  Marian. 

We  have  now  been  led  up  to  the  most  impor- 
tant event  in  George  Eliot's  life — her  union  with 
Mr.  George  Henry  Lewes.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  it 
seems  to  me  to  be  of  the  first  importance  that  she 
should  speak  for  herself;  and  there  is,  fortunately, 
a  letter  to  Mrs.  Bray,  dated  in  September,  1855 — 
fourteen  months  after  the  event  —  which  puts  on 
record  the  point  of  view  from  which  she  regarded 
her  own  action.  I  give  this  letter  here  (out  of  its 
place  as  to  date) ;  and  I  may  add,  what,  I  think,  has 
not  been  mentioned  before,  that  not  only  was  Mr. 
Lewes's  previous  family  life  irretrievably  spoiled, 
but  his  home  had  been  wholly  broken  up  for  nearly 


1 854-]  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes.  235 

two  years.  In  forming  a  judgment  on  so  momen- 
tous a  question,  it  is,  above  all  things,  necessary  to 
understand  what  was  actually  undertaken,  what 
was  actually  achieved  ;  and,  in  my  opinion,  this 
can  best  be  arrived  at,  not  from  any  outside  state- 
ment or  arguments,  but  by  consideration  of  the 
whole  tenor  of  the  life  which  follows,  in  the  devel- 
opment of  which  Mr.  Lewes's  true  character,  as 
well  as  George  Eliot's,  will  unfold  itself.  No  words 
that  any  one  else  can  write,  no  arguments  any  one 
else  can  use,  will,  I  think,  be  so  impressive  as  the 
life  itself. 
If  there  is  any  one  action  or  relation  of  my  life  which  Better  to 

*  Mrs.  Bra£ 

is,  and  always  has  been,  profoundly  serious,  it  is  my4thSept 
relation  to  Mr.  Lewes.  It  is,  however,  natural  enough 
that  you  should  mistake  me  in  many  ways,  for  not 
only  are  you  unacquainted  with  Mr.  Lewes's  real  char- 
acter and  the  course  of  his  actions,  but  also  it  is  sev- 
eral years  now  since  you  and  I  were  much  together, 
and  it  is  possible  that  the  modifications  my  mind  has 
undergone  may  be  quite  in  the  opposite  direction  of 
what  you  imagine.  No  one  can  be  better  aware  than 
yourself  that  it  is  possible  for  two  people  to  hold  dif- 
ferent opinions  on  momentous  subjects  with  equal  sin- 
cerity, and  an  equally  earnest  conviction  that  their 
respective  opinions  are  alone  the  truly  moral  ones.  If 
we  differ  on  the  subject  of  the  marriage  laws,  I  at  least 
can  believe  of  you  that  you  cleave  to  what  you  believe 
to  be  good  ;  and  I  don't  know  of  anything  in  the  nat- 
ure of  your  views  that  should  prevent  you  from  believ- 
ing the  same  of  me.  How  far  we  differ  I  think  we 
neither  of  us  know,  for  I  am  ignorant  of  your  precise 
views  ;  and,  apparently,  you  attribute  to  me  both  feel- 
ings and  opinions  which  are  not  mine.  We  cannot 


236  George  Eliot's  View  [21  CAMBRIDGE  ST., 

Letter  to    set  each  other  quite  right  in  this  matter  in  letters,  but 

Mrs.  Bray,  ° 

vh  Sept.    one  thing  I  can  tell  you  in  few  words.    Light  and  easily 

1055* 

broken  ties  are  what  I  neither  desire  theoretically  nor 
could  live  for  practically.  Women  who  are  satisfied 
with  such  ties  do  not  act  as  I  have  done.  That  any 
unworldly,  unsuperstitious  person  who  is  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  the  realities  of  life  can  pronounce  my 
relation  to  Mr.  Lewes  immoral,  I  can  only  understand 
by  remembering  how  subtile  and  complex  are  the  in- 
fluences that  mould  opinion.  But  I  do  remember  this  : 
and  I  indulge  in  no  arrogant  or  uncharitable  thoughts 
about  those  who  condemn  us,  even  though  we  might 
have  expected  a  somewhat  different  verdict.  From 
the  majority  of  persons,  of  course,  we  never  looked  for 
anything  but  condemnation.  We  are  leading  no  life 
of  self-indulgence,  except,  indeed,  that,  being  happy  in 
each  other,  we  find  everything  easy.  We  are  working 
hard  to  provide  for  others  better  than  we  provide  for 
ourselves,  and  to  fulfil  every  responsibility  that  lies 
upon  us.  Levity  and  pride  would  not  be  a  sufficient 
basis  for  that.  Pardon  me  if,  in  vindicating  myself 
from  some  unjust  conclusions,  I  seem  too  cold  and 
self-asserting.  I  should  not  care  to  vindicate  myself 
if  I  did  not  love  you  and  desire  to  relieve  you  of  the 
pain  which  you  say  these  conclusions  have  given  you. 
Whatever  I  may  have  misinterpreted  before,  I  do  not 
misinterpret  your  letter  this  morning,  but  read  in  it 
nothing  else  than  love  and  kindness  towards  me,  to 
which  my  heart  fully  answers  yes.  I  should  like  never 
to  write  about  myself  again  ;  it  is  not  healthy  to  dwell 
on  one's  own  feelings  and  conduct,  but  only  to  try  and 
live  more  faithfully  and  lovingly  every  fresh  day.  I 
think  not  one  of  the  endless  words  and  deeds  of  kind- 
ness and  forbearance  you  have  ever  shown  me  has 


1 854-1  °f  Union  with  Mr.  Lewes.  237 

vanished  from  my  memory.     I  recall  them  often,  and  Letter  to 

•*  Mrs.  Bray, 

feel,  as  about  everything  else  in  the  past,  how  deficient  4th  Sept. 
I  have  been  in  almost  every  relation  of  my  life.  But 
that  deficiency  is  irrevocable,  and  I  can  find  no 
strength  or  comfort  except  in  "pressing  forwarg!  tow- 
ards the  things  that  are  before,"  and  trying  to  make 
the  present  better  than  the  past.  But  if  we"  should 
never  be  very  near  each  other  again,  dear  Cara,  do 
bear  this  faith  in  your  mind,  that  I  was  not  insensible 
or  ungrateful  to  all  your  goodness,  and  that  I  am  one 
among  the  many  for  whom  you  have  not  lived  in  vain. 
I  am  very  busy  just  now,  and  have  been  obliged  to 
write  hastily.  Bear  this  in  mind,  and  believe  that  no 
meaning  is  mine  which  contradicts  my  assurance  that 
I  am  your  affectionate  and  earnest  friend. 


SUMMARY. 

MARCH,  1850,  TO  JULY,  1854. 

Return  to  England  with  M.  d' Albert  —  Depressing  effect  of 
change — Visit  to  Rosehill — Visit  to  brother  and  sister  at  Griff 
and  Meriden — Deeper  depression — To  Rosehill  again  with  M. 
d'Albert — Makes  her  home  there  for  sixteen  months — Reviews 
Mackay's  "  Progress  of  the  Intellect"  in  Westminster — Meets  Mr. 
Chapman,  the  editor  of  the  Westminster — Helps  to  settle  Pros- 
pectus of  new  series  of  the  Review — Visits  Robert  Noel  at 
Bishop  Steignton  with  Mrs.  Bray — Visit  to  London — Crystal  Pal- 
ace— Returns  to  Rosehill,  and  meets  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Combe 
— Goes  to  London  as  assistant  editor  of  the  Westminster  Review — 
Letters  to  Brays — Review  writing :  Dr.  Brabant,  Foxton,  Wilson 
— Meets  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer — Miss  Martineau — Distractions  of 
London — Low  health — Miss  Bremer — Introduction  to  Mr.  Lewes 
—  Opinion  of  House  of  Lords  —  Carlyle's  "Life  of  Sterling"  — 
Carlylc  anecdotes — Mackay — James  Martineau — J.  H.  Newman's 
Lectures — Translation  of  Schleiermacher — Letter  from  Carlyle — 
Intimacy  begins  with  Mr.  Lewes — Reviews  Carlyle's  "Sterling" 
in  Westminster — Visit  to  Rosehill — Returns  to  Strand — Harriet 


238  Summary  of  Cliaptcr  V.          [1850-54. 

Martineau — Pierre  Leroux — Louis  Blanc — Miss  Bessie  Parkes — 
Mrs.  Peter  Taylor — "  Margaret  fuller's  Life  " — Description  of 
Westminster  reviewers  —  Growing  intimacy  with  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer — Meeting  of  authors  and  booksellers  at  Mr.  Chapman's 
— Admiration  of  Prince  Albert — Grisi — Hack  work  of  Review — 
Appreciation  of  Miss  Martincau's  writings  —  Singing  of  charity 
children  at  St.  Paul's — George  Combe's  opinion  of  Westminster 
editing — Barbara  Leigh  Smith — Visit  to  Broadstairs — Florence 
Nightingale  —  Return  to  Strand — Depression — Professor  Owen 
on  the  Cerebellum — Visit  to  Combes  at  Edinburgh,  and  to  Harriet 
Martineau  at  Ambleside  —  Return  to  London  —  Reading  "Es- 
mond"— Lord  Brougham's  speech — Work  in  Strand — Bryant — 
Visit  to  Rosehill  —  Death  of  Edward  Clarke — Visit  to  widowed 
sister  at  Meriden — Return  to  Strand — Letter  to  Mrs.  Peter  Tay- 
lor— Views  on  America — "  Ruth  " — Visit  to  Rosehill,  and  to  Mrs. 
Clarke  at  Attleboro — Return  to  Strand — Reading  "  Villette  " — 
Letter  from  Mrs.  Stowe  to  Mrs.  Follen — Meets  Huxley — Thinks 
of  going  to  Australia  to  settle  Mrs.  Clarke — Admiration  of  Helen 
Faucit — Growing  regard  for  Mr.  Lewes — Kindness  of  Sir  James 
Clark — Visit  to  Ockley  —  Change  to  St.  Leonard's  —  Improve- 
ment in  health — Return  to  Strand — Spencer's  "  Universal  Postu- 
late "—Removal  to  21  Cambridge  Street — Leigh  Hunt's  "Relig- 
ion of  the  Heart "  —  Dawes,  Dean  of  Hereford  —  Harriet  Marti- 
neau— Comte — Contemplates  publishing  "  The  Idea  of  a  Future 
Life  " — Meets  Arthur  Helps — Intimate  relations  with  Mr.  Lewes 
— Translation  of  Feuerbach — Visit  to  Rosehill — Return  to  Lon- 
don —  Feuerbach  completed  —  Estimate  of  Herbert  Spencer — 
Good-bye  to  Brays — Union  with  Mr.  Lewes — Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray 
thereon. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
I  SAID  a  last  farewell  to  Cambridge  Street  on  2oth  Journal, 

2oth  July-. 

July,  1854,  and  found  myself  on  board  the  Ravens-^w- 
bourne,  bound  for  Antwerp.  The  day  was  glorious, 
and  our  passage  perfect.  The  sunset  was  lovely,  but 
still  lovelier  the  dawn  as  we  were  passing  up  the 
Scheldt  between  two  and  three  in  the  morning.  The 
crescent  moon,  the  stars,  the  first  faint  blush  of  the 
dawn  reflected  in  the  glassy  river,  the  dark  mass  of 
clouds  on  the  horizon,  which  sent  forth  flashes  of  light- 
ning, and  the  graceful  forms  of  the  boats  and  sailing- 
vessels,  painted  in  jet-black  on  the  reddish  gold  of  the 
sky  and  water,  made  up  an  unforgettable  picture. 
Then  the  sun  rose  and  lighted  up  the  sleepy  shores  of 
Belgium,  with  their  fringe  of  long  grass,  their  rows  of 
poplars,  their  church  spires  and  farm  buildings. 

The  great  treat  at  Antwerp  was  the  sight  of  the  zist  July. 
Descent  from  the  Cross,  which,  with  its  pendant,  the 
Elevation  of  the  Cross,  has  been  undergoing  restora- 
tion. In  the  latter  the  face  of  Jesus  is  sublime  in  its 
expression  of  agony  and  trust  in  the  Divine.  It  is 
certainly  the  finest  conception  of  the  suffering  Christ  I 
have  ever  seen.  The  rest  of  the  picture  gave  me  no 
pleasure.  But  in  the  Descent  from  the  Cross,  color, 
form,  and  expression  alike  impressed  me  with  the  sense 
of  grandeur  and  beauty.  A  little  miserable  copy  of 
the  picture  placed  near  it  served  as  an  admirable  foil. 

We  went  to  the  museum  and  saw  Rubens's  Cruci- zzd  July 
fixion,  even  more  beautiful  to  me  than  the  Descent 


240  Pictures  at  Antwerp.  [WEIMAR, 

journal,     from  the  Cross.     These  two  pictures  profoundly  in> 

22tl  July» 

1854-  pressed  me  with  the  miserable  lack  of  breadth  and 
grandeur  in  the  conceptions  of  our  living  artists.  The 
reverence  for  the  old  masters  is  not  all  humbug  and 
superstition. 

3  thjuiy.  We  breakfasted  in  the  public  room  at  the  hotel  at 
Cologne,  and  were  joined  there  by  Dr.  Brabant  and 
Strauss.  After  a  short  interview  with  them  we  went 
on  board  the  steamboat  which  was  to  take  us  to  Cob- 
lentz. 

Weimar,         It  was  very  pretty  to  look  out  of  the  window,  when 
Descrip- 
tion, Aug.- dressing,  on  a  garden  that  reminded  one  of  an  English 

village :  the  town  is  more  like  a  huge  village,  or  mar- 
ket-town, than  the  precincts  of  a  court. 

G.  called  on  Scholl,  and  in  the  afternoon  he  (Scholl) 
came  and  took  us  to  the  Schloss,  where  we  saw  the 
Dichter  Zimmer — a  suite  of  rooms  dedicated  to  Goethe, 
Schiller,  and  Wieland.  In  each  room  there  is  the  bust 
of  the  poet  who  is  its  presiding  genius;  and  the  walls 
of  the  Goethe  and  Schiller  rooms  are  decorated  with 
frescoes  representing  scenes  from  their  works.  The 
Wieland  room  is  decorated  with  arabesques  only.  The 
idea  of  these  rooms  is  a  very  pretty  one,  but  the  fres- 
coes are  badly  executed.  I  am  delighted  with  Scholl. 
He  is  a  bright-looking,  well-made  man,  with  his  head 
finely  set  on  his  shoulders,  very  little  like  a  German. 
We  discovered,  after  we  had  known  him  some  time, 
that  he  is  an  Austrian,  and  so  has  more  southern  blood 
in  his  veins  than  the  heavy  Thuringians.  His  man- 
ners are  hearty  and  cordial,  and  his  conversation  real- 
ly instructive :  his  ideas  are  so  thoroughly  shaped  and 
so  admirably  expressed.  Sauppe  is  also  a  Gelehrter, 
director  of  the  gymnasium,  and  editor  of  a  series  of 
classics  which  are  being  brought  out;  and  he  is  evi- 


1854.]  Excursion  to  Ettcrsburg.  241 

dently  thought  a  great  deal  of  in  Weimar.     We  went  Weimar, 

J  Descrip- 

with  the  Scholls  and  Sauppes  to  Tiefurt,  and  saw  the  lion,  Aug.- 

Oct.  1854. 

queer  little  Schloss  which  used  to  be  Amalia's  resi- 
dence. Tiefurt  was  a  favorite  resort  of  ours,  for  the 
walk  to  it  is  a  very  pleasant  one,  and  the  Tiefurt  park 
is  a  little  paradise.  The  Ilm  is  seen  here  to  the  best 
advantage :  it  is  clearer  than  at  Weimar,  and  winds 
about  gracefully  among  fine  trees.  One  of  the  banks 
is  a  high,  steep  declivity,  which  shows  the  trees  in  all 
their  perfection.  In  autumn,  when  the  yellow  and 
scarlet  were  at  their  brightest,  these  banks  were  fairy- 
like  in  their  beauty.  It  was  here  that  Goethe  and 
his  court  friends  got  up  the  performance  of  "  Die 
Fischerin  "  by  torchlight. 

About  ten  days  after  our  arrival  at  Weimar  we  made 
an  excursion  to  Ettersburg,  one  of  the  duke's  summer 
residences,  interesting  to  us  beforehand  as  the  scene 
of  private  theatricals  and  sprees  in  the  Goethe  days. 
We  carried  provisions  with  us,  and  Keats's  poems'.  The 
morning  was  one  of  the  brightest  and  hottest  that  Au- 
gust ever  bestowed,  and  it  required  some  resolution  to 
trudge  along  the  shadeless  chaussee,  which  formed  the 
first  two  or  three  miles  of  our  way.  One  compensat- 
ing pleasure  was  the  sight  of  the  beautiful  mountain 
ashes  in  full  berry,  which,  alternately  with  cherry-trees, 
border  the  road  for  a  considerable  distance.  I  felt  a 
child's  love  for  the  bunches  of  coral  standing  out 
against  the  blue  sky.  The  Schloss  is  a  house  of  very 
moderate  size,  and  no  pretension  of  any  kind.  Two 
flights  of  steps  lead  up  to  the  door,  and  the  balustrades 
are  ornamented  with  beautiful  creepers.  A  tiny  sort 
of  piazza  under  the  steps  is  ornamented  with  creepers 
too,  and  has  pretty  earthenware  vases  filled  with  plants 
hanging  from  the  ceiling.  We  felt  how  much  beauty 
ii 


242  Arthur  Helps.  [WEIMAR, 

Weimar,    might  be  procured  at  small  expense  in  looking  at  these 

tion,  Aug.-  things.     A  beautiful  walk  through  a  beech  wood  took 
Oct.  1854. 

us  to  the  Mooshutte,  before   which  stands  the  beech 

whereon  Goethe  and  his  friends  cut  their  names,  and 
trom  which  Goethe  denounced  Waldemar.  We  could 
recognize  some  of  the  initials.  With  Ettersburg  I  shall 
always  associate  Arthur  Helps,  for  he  was  with  us  on 
the  second  and  last  time  we  saw  it.  He  came  to  Wei- 
mar quite  unexpectedly  on  the  2Qth  August,  and  the 
next  evening  we  all  three  drove  to  Ettersburg.  He 
said  the  country  just  round  Weimar  reminded  him  of 
Spain.  This  led  him  to  talk  of  his  Spanish  travels, 
and  he  told  us  some  delightful  stories  in  a  delightful 
way.  At  one  inn  he  was  considerably  embarrassed 
in  eating  his  dinner  by  the  presence  of  a  handsome 
woman,  who  sat  directly  opposite  to  him,  resting  on 
her  elbows,  and  fixing  her  dark  eyes  on  him  with  a 
fearful  intensity  of  interest.  This  woman  was  the 
cook,  anxious  to  know  that  her  dishes  were  acceptable 
to  the  stranger.  Under  this  terrible  surveillance  he 
did  not  dare  to  omit  a  single  dish,  though  sorely  long- 
ing to  do  so. 

Our  greatest  expedition  from  Weimar  was  to  II- 
menau.  We  set  out  with  a  determination  to  find  the 
Gabel-Bach  and  Kickel-hahn  (Goethe's  residence)  with- 
out the  encumbrance  of  a  guide.  We  found  the  man 
who  inhabits  the  simple  wooden  house  which  used  to 
be  Carl  August's  hunting-box.  He  sent  a  man  on 
with  us  to  show  us  the  way  to  the  Kickel-hahn,  which 
we  at  last  reached — I  with  weary  legs.  There  is  a 
magnificent  view  of  hills  from  this  spot ;  but  Goethe's 
tiny  wooden  house  is  now  closely  shut  in  by  fir-trees, 
and  nothing  can  be  seen  from  the  windows.  His  room, 
which  forms  the  upper  floor  of  the  house,  is  about  ten 


I854-J  Wagner's  Operas.  243 

or  twelve  feet  square.    It  is  now  quite  empty,  but  there  Weimar, 
is  an  interesting  memorial  of  his  presence  in  these  tion>  A"g- 

Oct.  1854. 

wonderful  lines,  written  by  his  own  hand,  near  the  win- 
dow-frame : 

"  Ueber  alien  Gipfeln 

1st  Ruh, 

In  alien  Wipfeln 

Spiirest  du 

Kaum  einen  Hauch ; 

Die  Vogelein  schweigen  im  Walde. 

Warte  nur,  balde 

Ruhest  du  auch." 

We  wrote  our  names  near  one  of  the  windows. 

About  the  middle  of  September  the  theatre  opened, 
and  we  went  to  hear  "Ernani."  Liszt  looked  splendid 
as  he  conducted  the  opera.  The  grand  outline  of  his 
face  and  floating  hair  were  seen  to  advantage  as  they 
were  thrown  into  dark  relief  by  the  stage  lamps.  We 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  have  all  three  of  Wagner's 
most  celebrated  operas  while  we  were  at  Weimar.  G., 
however,  had  not  patience  to  sit  out  more  than  two 
acts  of  "  Lohengrin ;"  and,  indeed,  I  too  was  weary. 
The  declamation  appeared  to  me  monotonous,  and  sit- 
uations, in  themselves  trivial  or  disagreeable,  were 
dwelt  on  fat^guingly.  Without  feeling  competent  to 
pass  a  judgment  on  this  opera  as  music,  one  may  vent- 
ure to  say  that  it  fails  in  one  grand  requisite  of  art, 
based  on  an  unchangeable  element  in  human  nature 
— the  need  for  contrast.  With  the  "  Fliegender  Hol- 
lander" I  was  delighted;  the  poem  and  the  music 
were  alike  charming.  The  "  Tannhauser,"  too,  created 
in  me  a  great  desire  to  hear  it  again.  Many  of  the 
situations,  and  much  of  the  music,  struck  me  as  re- 
markably fine.  And  I  appreciated  these  operas  all  the 
better  retrospectively  when  we  saw  "  Der  Freischiitz," 


244  Schiller  s  Home.  [WEIMAR, 

Weimar,    which  I  had  never  before  heard  and  seen  on  the  stage. 

Descrip- 
tion, Aug.- The  effect  of  the  delicious  music,  with  which  one  is  so 
Oct.  1854. 

familiar,  was  completely  spoiled  by  the  absence  of  rec- 
itative, and  the  terrible  lapsus  from  melody  to  ordi- 
nary speech.  The  bacchanalian  song  seemed  simply 
ridiculous,  sung  at  a  little  pot-house  table  at  a  party 
of  two,  one  of  whom  was  sunk  in  melancholy;  and  the 
absurdity  reached  a  ne plus  ultra  when  Caspar  climbed 
the  tree,  apparently  with  the  sole  purpose  of  being  shot. 
A  propos  of  the  theatre,  we  were  immensely  amused  to 
learn  that  a  fair,  small-featured  man,  who  somehow  al- 
ways looked  to  me  as  if  he  had  just  come  out  of  the 
shell,  had  come  to  Weimar  to  fit  himself  for  a  dramatic 
writer  by  going  behind  the  scenes !  He  had  as  yet 
written  nothing,  but  was  going  to  work  in  what  he  con- 
sidered a  griindlich  way. 

When  we  passed  along  the  Schiller  Strasse,  I  used 
to  be  very  much  thrilled  by  the  inscription,  "  Hier 
wohnte  Schiller,"  over  the  door  of  his  small  house. 
Very  interesting  it  is  to  see  his  study,  which  is  happily 
left  in  its  original  state.  In  his  bedroom  we  saw  his 
skull  for  the  first  time,  and  were  amazed  at  the  small- 
ness  of  the  intellectual  region.  There  is  an  intensely 
interesting  sketch  of  Schiller  lying  dead^  which  I  saw 
for  the  first  time  in  the  study;  but  all  pleasure  in  think- 
ing of  Schiller's  portraits  and  bust  is  now  destroyed  to 
me  by  the  conviction  of  their  untruthfulness.  Rauch 
told  us  that  he  had  a  m iserabled  Stirne. 1  Waagen  says 
that  Tieck  the  sculptor  told  him  there  was  something 
in  Schiller's  whole  person  which  reminded  him  of  a 
camel. 

Goethe's  house  is  much  more  important-looking,  but, 

1  A  wretched  forehead. 


1 854.]  Goethe  s  House.  245 

to  English  eyes,  far  from  being  the  palatial  residence  Weimar 
which  some  German  writers  think  it.     The  entrance-  tion,  Aug.- 

Oct.  1854. 

hall  is  certainly  rather  imposing,  with  its  statues  in 
niches,  and  broad  staircase.  The  latter  was  made  after 
his  own  design,  and  was  an  "  after-shine "  of  Italian 
tastes.  The  pictures  are  wretched,  the  casts  not  much 
better — indeed,  I  remember  nothing  which  seemed  in- 
trinsically worth  looking  at.  The  MS.  of  his  "  R6- 
mische  Elegien,"  written  by  himself  in  the  Italian 
character,  is  to  be  seen  here;  and  one  likes  to  look  at 
it  better  than  at  most  of  the  other  things.  G.  had  ob- 
tained permission  from  Frau  v.  Goethe  to  see  the  studio 
and  Schlafzimmer,  which  are  not  open  to  the  public, 
and  here  our  feelings  were  deeply  moved.  We  en- 
tered first  a  small  room  containing  drawers  and  shelves 
devoted  to  his  mineralogical  collections.  From  these 
we  passed  into  the  study.  It  is  rather  a  dark  room, 
for  there  are  only  two  small  windows — German  win- 
dows. A  plain  deal  table  stands  in  the  middle,  and 
near  the  chair,  against  this  table,  is  a  high  basket, 
where,  I  was  afterwards  told,  Goethe  used  to  put  his 
pocket-handkerchief.  A  long  sort  of  writing-table  and 
bookcase  united  stands  against  one  wall.  Here  hangs 
the  pin-cushion,  just  as  he  left  it,  with  visiting-cards 
suspended  on  threads,  and  other  trifles  which  greatness 
and  death  have  made  sacred.  Against  the  opposite 
wall,  where  you  enter  the  bedroom,  there  is  a  high  writ- 
ing-desk, on  which  stands  a  little  statue  of  Napoleon 
in  creamy  glass.  The  bedroom  is  very  small.  By 
the  side  of  the  bed  stands  a  stuffed  arm-chair,  where 
he  used  to  sit  and  read  while  he  drank  his  coffee  in 
the  morning.  It  was  not  until  very  late  in  his  life  that 
he  adopted  the  luxury  of  an  arm-chair.  From  the 
other  side  of  the  study  one  enters  the  library,  which 


246  The  Gartenhaus.  [WEIMAR, 

Weimar,    fitted  up  in  a  very  makeshift  fashion,  with  rough  deal 

Dcscnp-  * 

tion,  Aug.-  shelves,  and  bits  of  paper,  with  Philosophy,  History,  etc., 
written  on  them,  to  mark  the  classification  of  the  books. 
Among  such  memorials  one  breathes  deeply,  and  the 
tears  rush  to  one's  eyes.  There  is  one  likeness  of 
Goethe  that  is  really  startling  and  thrilling  from  the 
idea  it  gives  one  of  perfect  resemblance.  It  is  painted 
on  a  cup,  and  is  a  tiny  miniature,  but  the  execution  is 
so  perfect  that,  on  applying  a  magnifying  glass,  every 
minute  stroke  has  as  natural  an  appearance  as  the 
texture  of  a  flower  or  the  parts  of  an  insect  under  the 
microscope. 

Equally  interesting  is  the  Gartenhaus^  which  we  used 
to  see  almost  every  day  in  our  walks.  Within,  it  is  a 
not  uncomfortable,  homely  sort  of  cottage  ;  no  furniture 
is  left  in  it,  and  the  family  want  to  sell  it.  It  stands 
on  a  pleasant  slope  fronting  the  west,  and  there  is  a 
charming  bit  of  garden  and  orchard  attached  to  it. 
Close  to  the  garden  hedge  runs  the  road  which  leads 
to  Ober  Weimar,  and  on  the  other  side  of  this  road  a 
meadow  stretches  to  the  trees  which  border  the  Ilm. 
A  bridge  nearly  opposite  the  Gartenhaus  takes  one  to 
the  Borkenhaus,  Carl  August's  little  retreat,  from  which 
he  used  to  telegraph  to  Goethe.  The  road  to  Ober 
Weimar  was  one  of  our  favorite  walks,  especially  tow- 
ards the  end  of  our  stay  at  Weimar,  when  we  were 
glad  of  all  the  sunshine  we  could  get.  Sometimes  we 
used  to  turn  out  of  it,  up  a  grove  of  weeping  birches, 
into  the  ploughed  fields  at  the  top  of  the  slope  on 
which  the  Gartenhaus  and  other  little  villas  stand. 
Here  we  enjoyed  many  a  lovely  sunset ;  one,  in  par- 
ticular, was  marvellously  splendid.  The  whole  hem- 
isphere was  golden,  towards  the  east  tinted  wi*h  rose- 
color.  From  this  little  height  we  looked  on  the  planta- 


i854-J  Walks  at  Weimar.  247 

tions  of  the  park,  in  their  autumnal  coloring,  the  town,  Weimar, 

'  Descrip- 

with  its  steep-roofed  church  and  its  castle  tower,  col-  tion,  Aug.- 

'  Oct.  1854. 

ored  a  gay  green,  the  line  of  chestnuts  along  the  Bel- 
vedere Chaussee,  and  Belvedere  itself  peeping  from 
its  nest  of  trees. 

Another  very  favorite  walk  of  mine  was  the  Webicht, 
a  beautiful  wood  through  which  ran  excellent  carriage- 
roads  and  grassy  footpaths.  How  richly  have  I  en- 
joyed skirting  this  wood  and  seeing,  on  the  other  side, 
the  sky  arching  grandly  down  over  the  open  fields,  the 
evening  red  flushing  the  west  over  the  town,  and  the 
bright  stars  come  out  as  if  to  relieve  the  sun  in  his 
watch  over  mortals.  And  then  the  winding  road 
through  the  Webicht  on  the  side  towards  Tiefurt,  with 
its  tall,  overarching  trees  now  bending  their  mossy 
trunks  forward,  now  standing  with  stately  erectness 
like  lofty  pillars ;  and  the  charming  grassy  paths 
through  the  heart  of  the  wood,  among  its  silvery- 
barked  birches !  The  Webicht  lies  towards  Tiefurt, 
and  one  side  of  it  is  bordered  by  the  road  thither.  I 
remember,  as  we  were  returning  from  Tiefurt  one  even- 
ing, a  beautiful  effect  of  the  setting  sunlight  pouring 
itself  under  the  trees,  and  making  the  road  before  us 
almost  crimson. 

One  of  our  pleasantest  acquaintances  at  Weimar 
was  the  French  ambassador,  the  Marquis  de  Ferriere,  a 
very  favorable  specimen  of  a  Frenchman,  but  intensely 
French.  His  genial  soul  and  perfect  good-humor  gave 
one  the  same  sort  of  bien-ttre  as  a  well-stuffed  arm- 
chair and  a  warm  hearthrug.  In  the  course  of  conver- 
sation, speaking  of  Yvan's  accounts  of  his  travels  (the 
marquis  was  first  secretary  to  the  Chinese  embassy 
which  Yvan  accompanied),  he  said,  "  C'dtait  faux  d'un 
bout  a  1'autre ;  mais  c'e'tait  spirituel,  paradoxal,  amu- 


248  Liszt  on  Spontini.  [WEIMAR, 

Weimar,     sant — enfin  tout  ce  ou'il fallait  pour  un  journal"     An- 

Descrip-  * 

tion,  Aug.- other  day  he  observed  that  the  famous  words  of  Na- 

Oct.  1854.  J 

poleon  to  his  Egyptian  army,  "  Forty  centuries  look 
down  on  you  from  the  summits  of  these  pyramids," 
were  characteristic  of  the  French  national  feeling,  as 
those  of  Nelson,  "  England  expects  the  man  to  make 
his  duty"  were  of  the  English.  This  is  a  fair  speci- 
men of  the  correctness  with  which  one  generally  hears 
English  quoted  ;  and  we  often  reminded  ourselves  that 
it  was  a  mirror  in  which  we  might  see  our  own  German. 
Liszt's  conversation  is  charming.  I  never  met  with 
a  person  whose  manner  of  telling  a  story  was  so  piq- 
uant. The  last  evening  but  one  that  he  called  on  us, 
wishing  to  express  his  pleasure  in  G.'s  article  about 
him,  he  very  ingeniously  conveyed  that  expression  in  a 
story  about  Spontini  and  Berlioz.  Spontini  visited 
Paris  while  Liszt  was  living  there,  and  haunted  the 
opera  —  a  stiff,  self-important  personage,  with  high 
shirt-collars,  the  least  attractive  individual  imaginable ; 
Liszt  turned  up  his  own  collars,  and  swelled  out  his 
person,  so  as  to  give  us  a  vivid  idea  of  the  man.  Ev- 
ery one  would  have  been  glad  to  get  out  of  Spontini's 
way — indeed,  elsewhere  "  on  feignait  de  le  croire  mort," 
but  at  Paris,  as  he  was  a  member  of  the  Institute,  it 
was  necessary  to  recognize  his  existence.  Liszt  met 
him  at  Erard's  more  than  once.  On  one  of  these  oc- 
casions Liszt  observed  to  him  that  Berlioz  was  a  great 
admirer  of  his  (Spontini's),  whereupon  Spontini  burst 
into  a  terrible  invective  against  Berlioz  as  a  man  who, 
with  the  like  of  him,  was  ruining  art,  etc.  Shortly  after 
the  "  Vestale  "  was  performed,  and  forthwith  appeared 
an  enthusiastic  article  by  Berlioz  on  Spontini's  music. 
The  next  time  Liszt  met  him  of  the  high  collars  he 
said,  "You  see  I  was  not  wrong  in  what  I  said  about 


1854-]  Breakfast  at  Liszt's.  249 

Berlioz's  admiration  of  you."     Spontini  swelled  in  his  Weimar, 

Descrip- 

collars.  and  replied,  "Monsieur,  Berlioz  a  du  talent'^. Aug/ 

.  .  ,„  Oct  1854 

comme  critique ! 

Liszt's  replies  were  always  felicitous  and  character- 
istic. Talking  of  Mme.  D'Agoult,  he  told  us  that  when 
her  novel  "  Nelida  "  appeared,  in  which  Liszt  himself 
is  pilloried  as  a  delinquent,  he  asked  her,  "  Mais  pour- 
quoi  avez-vous  tellement  maltraite  ce  pauvre  Leh- 
mann  ?"  The  first  time  we  were  asked  to  breakfast  at 
his  house,  the  Altenburg,  we  were  shown  into  the  gar- 
den, where,  in  a  saloon  formed  by  overarching  trees, 
the  dejeuner  was  set  out.  We  found  Hoffmann  von 
Fallersleben,  the  lyric  poet,  Dr.  Schade — a  Gelehrter, 
and  Cornelius.  Presently  came  a  Herr — or  Doctor — 
Raff,  a  musician,  who  has  recently  published  a  volume 
called  "  Wagnerfrage."  Soon  after  we  were  joined  by 
Liszt  and  the  Princess  Marie,  an  elegant,  gentle-look- 
ing girl  of  seventeen,  and  last  by  the  Princess  Witt- 
genstein, with  her  nephew,  Prince  Eugene,  and  a  young 
French  artist,  a  pupil  of  Scheffer.  The  princess  was 
tastefully  dressed  in  a  morning-robe  of  some  semi- 
transparent  white  material,  lined  with  orange  -  color, 
which  formed  the  bordering  and  ornamented  the 
sleeves,  a  black  lace  jacket,  and  a  piquant  cap  set  on 
the  summit  of  her  comb,  and  trimmed  with  violet  color. 
When  the  cigars  came,  Hoffman  was  requested  to  read 
some  of  his  poetry,  and  he  gave  us  a  bacchanalian 
poem  with  great  spirit.  I  sat  next  to  Liszt,  and  my 
great  delight  was  to  watch  him  and  observe  the  sweet- 
ness of  his  expression.  Genius,  benevolence,  and  ten- 
derness beam  from  his  whole  countenance,  and  his 
manners  are  in  perfect  harmony  with  it.  Then  came 
the  thing  I  had  longed  for — his  playing.  I  sat  near 
him,  so  that  I  could  see  both  his  hands  and  face.  For 
ii* 


250  Liszt 's  Playing.  [WEIMAR, 

Weimar,    the  first  time  in  my  life  I  beheld  real  inspiration — fof 
tion,Aug.-the  first  time  I  heard  the  true  tones  of  the  piano.     He 

Oct.  1854. 

played  one  of  his  own  compositions — one  of  a  series 
of  religious  fantasies.  There  was  nothing  strange  or 
excessive  about  his  manner.  His  manipulation  of  the 
instrument  was  quiet  and  easy,  and  his  face  was  sim- 
ply grand — the  lips  compressed,  and  the  head  thrown 
a  little  backward.  When  the  music  expressed  quiet 
rapture  or  devotion  a  smile  flitted  over  his  features ; 
when  it  was  triumphant  the  nostrils  dilated.  There 
was  nothing  petty  or  egoistic  to  mar  the  picture.  Why 
did  not  Scheffer  paint  him  thus,  instead  of  represent- 
ing him  as  one  of  the  three  Magi  ?  But  it  just  occurs 
to  me  that  Scheffer's  idea  was  a  sublime  one.  There 
are  the  two  aged  men  who  have  spent  their  lives  in 
trying  to  unravel  the  destinies  of  the  world,  and  who 
are  looking  for  the  Deliverer — for  the  light  from  on 
high.  Their  young  fellow-seeker,  having  the  fresh  in- 
spiration of  early  life,  is  the  first  to  discern  the  herald 
star,  and  his  ecstasy  reveals  it  to  his  companions.  In 
this  young  Magus,  Scheffer  has  given  a  portrait  of 
Liszt ;  but  even  here,  where  he  might  be  expected 
to  idealize  unrestrainedly,  he  falls  short  of  the  original. 
It  is  curious  that  Liszt's  face  is  the  type  that  one  sees 
in  all  Scheffer's  pictures  ;  at  least,  in  all  I  have  seen. 

In  a  little  room  which  terminates  the  suite  at  the 
Altenburg  there  is  a  portrait  of  Liszt,  also  by  Scheffer 
— the  same  of  which  the  engraving  is  familiar  to  every 
one.  This  little  room  is  filled  with  memorials  of  Liszt's 
triumphs  and  the  worship  his  divine  talent  has  won.  It 
was  arranged  for  him  by  the  princess,  in  conjunction 
with  the  Arnims,  in  honor  of  his  birthday.  There  is  a 
medallion  of  him  by  Schwanthaler,  a  bust  by  an  Ital- 
ian artist,  also  a  medallion  by  Rietschl — very  fine — 


1 854-]  Leave  Weimar.  251 

and  cabinets  full  of  jewels  and  precious  things — the  Weimar, 

Descnp- 

gifts  of  the  great.     In  the  music  salon  stand  Beetho-  £°n'  Au»-- 

Oct.  1854. 

ven's  and  Mozart's  pianos.  Beethoven's  was  a  present 
from  Broadwood,  and  has  a  Latin  inscription  intimat- 
ing that  it  was  presented  as  a  tribute  to  his  illustrious 
genius.  One  evening  Liszt  came  to  dine  with  us  at 
the  Erb  Prinz,  and  introduced  M.  Rubinstein,  a  young 
Russian,  who  is  about  to  have  an  opera  of  his  performed 
in  Weimar.  Our  expenses  at  Weimar,  including  wine 
and  washing,  were  £2  6s.  per  week.  Dear  Weimar! 
We  were  sorry  to  say  good-bye  to  it,  with  its  pleasant 
group  of  friends.  On  the  4th  of  November,  after  a 
stay  of  just  three  months,  we  turned  our  backs  on  it 
"to  seek  fresh  streets  and  faces  new"  at  Berlin. 

There  are  certain  persons  without  any  physiognomy,  Berlin, 
the  catalogue  of  whose  features,  as,  item,  a  Roman  nose,  tions, 
item,  a  pair  of  black  eyes,  etc.,  gives  you  the  entire  con-toMch. 
tents  of  their  faces.     There  is  no  difference  of  opinion 
about  the  looks  of  such  people.    All  the  world  is  agreed 
either  that  they  are  pretty  or  ugly.     So  it  is  with  Berlin. 
Every  one  tells  you  it  is  an  uninteresting  modern  city, 
with  broad,  monotonous  streets  ;  and  when  you  see  it, 
you  cannot  for  the  life  of  you  get  up  an  emotion  of  sur- 
prise, or  make  a  remark  about  the  place  which  you 
have  not  heard  before. 

The  day  after  our  arrival  was  Sunday,  6th  November; 
the  sun  shone  brightly,  and  we  went  to  walk  in  the 
Linden,  elbowing  our  way  among  the  promeneurs  endi- 
manches,  who  looked  remarkably  smart  and  handsome 
after  the  Thuringians.  We  had  not  gone  far  when  we 
met  a  nice-looking  old  gentleman,  with  an  order  round 
his  neck,  and  a  gold-headed  cane  in  his  hand,  who  ex- 
claimed, on  seeing  G.,  "  Ist's  moglich  ?"  and  then  bade 
him  heartily  welcome.  I  saw  at  once  it  was  the  Yarn- 


252  Impressions  of  Berlin.  [BERLIN, 

hajren  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  often.    His  niece,  arrayed 

°  • 

in  smiles  and  a  pink  bonnet,  was  with  him. 

For  the  first  six  weeks,  when  the  weather  permitted, 
we  took  long  walks  in  the  Thiergarten,  where  the 
straight  and  uniform  avenues  of  insignificant  trees  con- 
trasted very  disadvantageously  with  the  charming  va- 
riety of  our  beloved  park  at  Weimar.  Still,  we  now 
and  then  noticed  a  beautiful  wintry  effect,  especially  in 
the  part  most  remote  from  the  town,  where  the  trees 
are  finer  and  the  arrangements  more  varied.  One 
walk,  which  skirted  the  Thiergarten  on  the  right-hand 
side  coming  from  the  town,  we  were  particularly  fond 
of,  because  it  gave  us  on  one  side  an  open  view,  with 
water  and  a  boat  or  two,  which,  touched  by  the  magic 
of  sunshine,  was  pleasant  to  see.  At  Berlin  it  was  "  a 
day  of  small  things  "  with  regard  to  the  beautiful,  and 
we  made  much  of  little. 

Our  little  circle  of  acquaintances  was  very  agreeable 
and  varied.  Varnhagen  was  a  real  treasure  to  G.,  for 
his  library  supplied  all  the  deficiencies  of  the  public 
one,  where  to  ask  for  books  was  generally  like  "  sink- 
ing buckets  into  empty  wells."  He  is  a  man  of  real 
culture,  kindliness,  and  polish  (Germanly  speaking) ; 
and  he  has  besides  that  thorough  liberalism,  social,  re- 
ligious, and  political,  which  sets  the  mind  at  ease  in 
conversation,  and  delivers  it  from  the  fear  of  running 
against  some  prejudice,  or  coming  suddenly  on  the 
sunk  fence  of  some  miserable  limitation.  The  first 
morning  he  called  on  us  he  talked  of  his  terrible  dis- 
appointment in  Carlyle,  a  subject  to  which  he  often 
returned.  He  evidently  felt  an  antipathy  to"  the  "Teu- 
felsdrockh,"  which,  indeed,  it  was  not  difficult  to  un- 
derstand from  the  mere  maniere  d'etre  of  the  two  men. 
They  had  corresponded  for  years  before  they  saw  each 


1854-]  Varnhagen.  253 

other;  and  Varnhagen  was, and  is,  a  great  admirer  of  Berlin, 

Reco*lco» 

Carlyle's  best  work,  but  he  was  thoroughly   repelled  tions, 

I"54~5S« 

by  his  rough,  paradoxical  talk,  and,  more  justifiably,  by 
the  despotic  doctrines  which  it  has  been  his  humor  to 
teach  of  late.  We  were  amused  to  hear  that  Carlyle 
said  he  should  think  no  one  could  die  at  Berlin,  "for 
in  beds  without  curtains  what  Christian  could  give  up 
the  ghost?" 

At  Varnhagen's  we  met,  for  the  first  time,  Professor 
Stahr,  who  was  there  with  Fanny  Lewald,  Fraulein 
Solmar,  Frau  Muisch,  Dr.  Ring,  Dr.  Vehse,  Grafin  von 
Kalkreuth,  and  Director  Wilhelm  Schadow,  author  of 
"  Der  Moderne  Vasari."  We  talked  of  Goethe.  Varn- 
hagen brought  out  autographs  and  portraits,  and  read 
us  an  epigram  of  his  own  on  the  want  of  liberality  which 
Goethe's  family  show  about  opening  his  house  to  the 
public.  He  showed  us  a  portrait  of  Kleist,  who  shot 
himself,  in  company  with  Frau  Vogel,  near  an  inn  on 
the  way  to  Potsdam.  There  was  no  love-affair  be- 
tween them;  they  were  both  thoroughly  unhappy — he 
poor  and  hopeless  for  the  future;  and  she  suffering 
from  an  incurable  disease.  In  the  evening  they  both 
wrote,  on  a  single  sheet  of  paper,  letters  to  their  friends, 
communicating  their  intention  (this  sheet  Varnhagen 
possesses).  Early  in  the  morning  they  rose,  took  a 
cup  of  coffee,  went  to  the  brink  of  a  piece  of  water  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  inn,  and  there  shot  them- 
selves. 

Du  Bois  Reymond  spoke  very  decidedly  of  the  Ger- 
man civilization  as  inferior  to  the  English. 

Varnhagen,  when  well,  is  a  regular  visitor  at  Frau- 
lein Solmar's,  who  for  many  years  has  kept  an  open 
salon  for  her  friends  every  evening  but  one  in  the  week. 
Here  the  three-cornered  chair  next  the  sofa  was  reserved 


254  Fraulein  So/mar's  Salon.          [BERLIN, 

Berlin,      for  him,  except  when  General  Pfuhl  was  there.     This 

Recollec- 
tions,        General  Pfuhl  is  a  fine  specimen  of  an  old  soldier,  who 

is  at  the  same  time  a  man  of  instruction  and  of  strong 
social  sympathies.  He  has  been  in  the  service  of 
Prussia,  has  been  within  a  hair's-breadth  of  being 
frozen  to  death,  "  and  so  following."  He  spoke  French 
admirably,  and  always  had  something  interesting  and 
characteristic  to  tell  or  say.  His  appreciatory  groans, 
always  in  the  right  place,  when  G.  was  reading  "  Shy- 
lock"  did  us  both  good,  under  the  chills  of  a  German 
audience.  Fraulein  Solmar  is  a  remarkably  accom- 
plished woman — probably  between  fifty  and  sixty,  but 
of  that  agreeable  Wesen  which  is  so  free  from  anything 
startling  in  person  or  manner,  and  so  at  home  in 
everything  one  can  talk  of,  that  you  think  of  her  sim- 
ply as  a  delightful  presence,  and  not  as  a  woman  of 
any  particular  age.  She  converses  perfectly  in  French, 
well  in  English,  and  well  also,  as  we  were  told,  in  Ital- 
ian. There  is  not  the  slightest  warmth  of  manner  or 
expression  in  her,  but  always  the  same  even  cheerful- 
ness and  intelligence — in  fact,  she  is  the  true  type  of 
the  mistress  of  the  salon.  During  the  first  half  of  our 
stay  in  Berlin  we  went  about  once  a  week  to  her  house; 
but  bad  health  and  bad  weather  kept  us  away  during 
the  last  six  weeks,  except  for  one  or  two  evenings. 
Baron  Sternberg,  the  novelist,  used  frequently  to  glide 
in  when  we  were  there,  and  cast  strange,  cold  glances 
around,  talking  quietly  to  Fraulein  Assing  or  some 
other  lady  who  sat  in  a  distant  parallel  of  latitude. 

One  evening  a  Frenchman  there  amused  us  by  say- 
ing that  he  found  in  Meyerbeer's  "  Huguenots  "  the 
whole  spirit  of  the  epoch  of  Charles  IX.  "Lisez  les 
Chroniques" — "de  Froissart  ?"  suggested  Mile.  Solmar. 
"Oui,  quelque  chose  comme  c,a;  ou  bien  les  Chroniques 


i8s4-]  Professor  Gruppe.  255 

de  Brantome  ou  de  Merimee,  et  vous  trouverez  que  Berlin, 

\       Recolleo 

Meyerbeer  a  parfaitement  expnme  tout  cela;  du  moinstions, 
c'est  ce  que  je  trouve,  moi."  I  said,  "  Mais  peut-etre, 
Monsieur,  c'est  votre  genie  a  vous  qui  a  fait  entrer  les 
idees  dans  la  musicfue.  He  answered  with  compla- 
cent deprecation.  G.  looked  immovably  serious,  but 
was  inwardly  tickled  by  the  audacity  of  my  compli- 
ment, and  the  evident  acceptance  of  it. 

A  still  more  interesting  acquaintance  was  Professor 
Gruppe,  who  has  written  great  books  on  the  Greek 
drama  and  on  Philosophy;  has  been  a  political  writer; 
is  a  lyric  and  epic  poet ;  has  invented  a  beautiful  kind 
of  marbled  paper  for  binding  books  ;  is  an  enthusiastic 
huntsman,  and,  withal,  the  most  simple,  kind-hearted 
creature  in  the  world.  His  little  wife,  who  is  about 
twenty  years  younger  than  himself,  seems  to  adore  him, 
and  it  is  charming  to  see  the  group  they  and  their  two 
little  children  make  in  their  dwelling,  up  endless  flights 
of  stairs  in  the  Leipziger  Platz.  Very  pleasant  even- 
ings we  had  there,  chatting  or  playing  whist,  or  listen- 
ing to  readings  of  Gruppe's  poems.  We  used  to  find 
him  in  a  gray  cloth  Schlafrock,  which  I  fancy  was  once 
a  great-coat,  and  a  brown  velvet  cap  surmounting  his 
thin  gray  hairs.  I  never  saw  a  combination  at  all  like 
that  which  makes  up  Gruppe's  character.  Talent, 
fertility,  and  versatility  that  seem  to  indicate  a  fervid 
temperament,  and  yet  no  scintillation  of  all  this  in  his 
talk  and  manner;  on  the  contrary,  he  seems  slow  at 
apprehending  other  people's  ideas,  and  is  of  an  almost 
childish  naivete  in  the  value  he  attaches  to  poor  jokes, 
and  other  trivialities.  A  propos  of  jokes,  we  noticed 
that  during  the  whole  seven  months  of  our  stay  in  Ger- 
many we  never  heard  one  witticism,  or  even  one  fe- 
licitous idea  or  expression,  from  a  German  ! 


256  Professor  Gruppe.  [BERLIN, 

kecuMee         Gruppe  has  a  delightful  library,  with  rare  books,  and 

tions,         books  too  good  to  be  rare:  and  we  often  applied  to 
'854-55. 

him  for  some  of  them.     He  lent  me  "  Lessing,"  and 

that  is  an  additional  circumstance  to  remember  with 
pleasure  in  connection  with  the'Laocoon.  He  one 
evening  gave  us  an  interesting  account  of  his  work  on 
the  cosmic  system  of  the  Greeks,  and  read  us  a  trans- 
lation, by  himself,  of  one  of  the  Homeric  hymns — 
Aphrodite — which  is  very  beautiful,  a  sort  of  Gegen- 
stuck  to  "Der  Gott  und  die  Bajadere  :"  and  generally 
we  were  glad  when  he  took  up  the  book.  He  read  us 
a  specimen  of  his  epic  poem,  "Firdusi,"  which  pleased 
us.  The  fable  on  which  this  poem  is  founded  is  fine. 
The  sultan  had  engaged  Firdusi  to  write  a  great  poem 
on  his  exploits,  and  had  promised  to  pay  for  this  one 
hundred  thousand  pieces  (gold  being  understood). 
Firdusi  had  delighted  in  the  thought  of  this  sum,  which 
he  intended  to  devote  to  the  benefit  of  his  native  city. 
When  the  poem  was  delivered,  and  the  sack  of  money 
given  to  Firdusi,  he  found  that  the  pieces  were  silver! 
He  burst  into  a  song  of  scorn  against  the  sultan,  and 
paid  the  miserable  sum  to  his  bath-man.  Gruppe 
thinks  Shakespeare  more  extensively  sold  in  Germany 
than  any  other  book,  except  the  Bible  and  Schiller ! 
One  night  we  attempted  "  Brag "  or  "  Pocher,"  but 
Gruppe  presently  became  alarmed  at  G.'s  play,  and 
said  "  Das  wiirde  an  zwolf  Groschen  reichen."  He 
drew  some  Jews'  faces  with  a  pen  admirably. 

We  were  invited  to  meet  Waagen,  whom  we  found  a 
very  intelligent  and  amusing  man.  He  told  us  a  story 
about  Goethe,  who  said  of  some  one,  "  I  thank  thee, 
Almighty  God,  that  thou  hast  produced  no  second  edi- 
tion of  this  man  !"  and  an  amusing  judgment  passed 
on  Goethe  himself,  that  he  was  "  Kein  dummer  Mann  !" 


1854-]  Edward  Magnus  on  Carlylc.  257 

Also  a  story  of  a  lady  who  went  to  see  him,  as  an  in-  Berlin, 

*  J  _     Recollec- 

tellectual  adorer,  and  began  to  spout  to  him,  as  his  tions> 

1 854-55. 

masterpiece,  "Fest  gemauert  in  der  Erden,"  '  etc. 

Another  pleasant  friend  was  Edward  Magnus,  the 
portrait-painter,  an  acute,  intelligent,  kind-hearted  man, 
with  real  talent  in  his  art.  He  was  the  only  German 
we  met  with  who  seemed  conscious  of  his  country- 
men's deficiencies.  He  showed  in  every  possible  way 
a  hearty  desire  to  do  us  service — sent  us  books,  came 
to  chat  with  us,  showed  us  his  portraits,  and,  when  we 
were  going  away,  brought  us  lithographs  of  some  paint- 
ings of  his,  that  we  might  carry  away  a  remembrance 
of  him.  He  has  travelled  very  extensively,  and  had 
much  intercourse  with  distinguished  people,  and  these 
means  of  culture  have  had  some  of  their  best  effects 
on  his  fine  temperament  and  direct,  truthful  mind.  He 
told  us  a  rich  story  about  Carlyle.  At  a  dinner-party, 
given  by  Magnus  in  his  honor,  Wiese  and  Cornelius  - 
were  deploring  Goethe's  want  of  evangelical  sentiment. 
Carlyle  was  visibly  uneasy,  fumbling  with  his  dinner- 
napkin.  At  last  he  broke  out  thus  :  "  Meine  Herren  ken- 
nen  sie  die  Anekdote  von  dem  Manne  der  die  Sonne 
lasterte  weil  sie  ihm  sein  Cigarre  nicht  anstecken  liess  ?"  * 

In  the  little  room  where  we  used  to  be  ushered  to 
wait  for  him  there  was  a  portrait  of  Thorwaldsen  and 
one  of  Mendelssohn,  both  of  whom  he  knew  well.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  in  his  atelier  the  original  of  the 
portrait  of  Jenny  Lind,  with  which  1  was  so  familiar. 
He  was  going  to  send  it,  together  with  Sontag's  por- 
trait, to  the  exhibition  at  Paris.  His  brother,  the 
chemist,  was  also  a  bright,  good-natured-looking  man. 

i  First  line  of  Schiller's  "  Song  of  the  Bell." 
3  "  Gentlemen,  do  you  know  the  story  of  the  man  who  railed  at 
the  sun  because  it  would  not  light  his  cigar  ?" 


258  Schiller 's  Portrait.  [BERLIN, 

Berlin,       We  were  invited  to  a  large  evening  party  at  his  house, 

Recollec-  °  r       * 

tions,         and  found  very  elegant  rooms,  with  a  remarkable  as- 
1854-55.  '        * 

semblage  of  celebrated  men — Johannes  Muller,  Du 
Bois  Reymond,  Rose,  Ehrenberg,  etc.  Some  of  the 
women  were  very  pretty  and  well  dressed.  The  sup- 
per, brought  round  on  trays,  was  well  appointed ;  and 
altogether  the  party  was  well  managed. 

We  spent  one  evening  with  Professor  Stahr  and  his 
wife — Fanny  Lewald — after  their  marriage.  Stahr  has 
a  copy  of  the  charming  miniature  of  Schiller,  taken 
when  he  was  about  thirty — a  miniature  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  certain  Madame  von  Kalb.  There  are  the 
long  Gansehals?  the  aquiline  nose,  the  blue  eyes  and 
auburn  hair.  It  is  a  most  real  and  striking  portrait. 
I  saw  also  a  portrait  and  bust  of  Madame  d'Agoult 
here,  both  rather  handsome.  The  first  evening  Stahr 
told  us  some  of  the  grievances  which  the  Prussians 
have  to  bear  from  their  government,  and  among  the 
rest  the  vexatious  necessity  for  a  "concession"  or  li- 
cense, before  any,  the  simplest  vocation,  can  be  entered 
on.  He  observed,  with  justice,  that  the  English  are 
apt  to  suppose  the  German  Revolution  of '48  was  mere 
restlessness  and  aping  of  other  nations,  when  in  fact 
there  were  real  oppressions  which  the  Germans  had  to 
bear,  and  which  they  had  borne  with  a  patience  that 
the  English  would  not  imitate  for  a  month.  By  far  the 
most  distinguished-looking  man  we  saw  at  Berlin,  and, 
indeed,  next  to  Liszt,  in  Germany,  was  Rauch  the  sculp- 
tor. Scholl  had  given  G.  a  letter  for  him,  and  soon 
after  it  had  been  left  at  his  house  he  called  on  us  in 
the  evening,  and  at  once  won  our  hearts  by  his  beauti- 
ful person  and  the  benignant  and  intelligent  charm  of 

1  Goose-neck. 


1854.]  Ranch  the  Sculptor.  259 

his  conversation.     He  is  indeed  the  finest  old  man  I  Berlin, 

Recollec- 

ever  saw — more  than  seventy-six,  I  believe,  but  perfectly  tions, 
upright,  even  stately,  in  his  carriage.  His  features  are 
harmonious,  his  complexion  has  a  delicate  freshness, 
his  silky  white  hair  waves  gracefully  round  his  high 
forehead,  and  his  brown  eyes  beam  with  benevolence 
and  intelligence.  He  is  above  the  common  height,  and 
his  stature  and  beauty  together  ennoble  the  gray  work- 
ing surtout  and  cap  which  he  wears  in  his  atelier  into  a 
picturesque  and  distinguished  costume.  The  evening 
he  was  with  us  he  talked  delightfully  of  Goethe,  dwell- 
ing especially  on  his  lovable  nature.  He  described 
very  graphically  Goethe's  way  of  introducing  subjects, 
showing  plates,  etc.,  bringing  in  the  cast  of  Schiller's 
skull,  and  talking  of  it  and  other  little  particulars  of 
interest.  We  went  one  morning  to  his  atelier,  and 
found  him  superintending  his  pupil's  work  at  a  large 
group  representing  Moses  with  his  hands  held  up  by 
Aaron  and  Hur.  It  was  extremely  interesting  to  me 
to  see  Rauch's  original  little  clay  model  of  this  group, 
for  I  had  never  seen  statuary  in  that  first  stage  before. 
The  intense  expression  of  entreaty  in  the  face  of  the 
Moses  was  remarkable.  But  the  spirit  of  this  group  is 
so  alien  to  my  sympathies  that  I  could  feel  little  pleas- 
ure in  the  idea  of  its  production.  On  the  other  hand, 
my  heart  leaped  at  the  sight  of  old  Kant's  quaint  figure, 
of  which  Rauch  is  commissioned  to  produce  a  colossal 
statue  for  Konigsberg.  In  another  atelier,  where  the 
work  is  in  a  different  stage,  we  saw  a  splendid  marble 
monument,  nearly  completed,  of  the  late  king  of  Han- 
over. Pitiable  that  genius  and  spotless  white  marble 
should  be  thrown  away  on  such  human  trash !  Our 
second  visit  to  Rauch's  atelier  was  paid  shortly  before 
we  left  Berlin.  The  group  of  Moses,  Aaron,  and  Hur 


260  Ranch's  Atelier.  [BERLIN, 

Berlin,  was  clothed  up,  and  the  dark-eyed,  olive-complexioned 
pupil  was  at  work  on  a  pretty  little  figure  of  Hope — a 
child  stepping  forward  with  upturned  face,  a  bunch  of 
flowers  in  her  hand.  In  the  other  atelier  we  saw  a  bust 
of  Schleiermacher,  which,  with  the  equestrian  statue  of 
Fritz,  and  its  pedestal,  Rauch  was  going  to  send  to  the 
Paris  Exhibition.  Schleiermacher's  face  is  very  deli- 
cately cut,  and  indicates  a  highly  susceptible  tempera- 
ment. The  colossal  head  of  Fritz,  seen  on  a  level  with 
one's  eye,  was  perfectly  startling  from  its  living  expres- 
sion. One  can't  help  fancying  that  the  head  is  think- 
ing and  that  the  eyes  are  seeing. 

Dessoir  the  actor  was  another  pleasant  variety  in 
our  circle  of  acquaintance.  He  created  in  us  a  real 
respect  and  regard  for  him,  not  only  by  his  sincere  de- 
votion to  his  art,  but  by  the  superiority  of  feeling  which 
shone  through  all  the  little  details  of  his  conduct  and 
conversation.  Of  lowly  birth,  and  entirely  self-taught, 
he  is  by  nature  a  gentleman.  Without  a  single  physi- 
cal gift  as  an  actor,  he  succeeds,  by  force  of  enthusiasm 
and  conscientious  study,  in  arriving  at  a  representation 
which  commands  one's  attention  and  feelings.  I  was 
very  much  pleased  by  the  simplicity  with  which  he  one 
day  said,  "  Shakespeare  ist  mein  Gott ;  ich  habe  keinen 
anderen  Gott :"  and  indeed  one  saw  that  his  art  was  a 
religion  to  him.  He  said  he  found  himself  inevitably 
led  into  singsong  declamation  by  Schiller,  but  with 
Shakespeare  it  was  impossible  to  be  declamatory.  It 
was  very  agreeable  to  have  him  as  a  companion  now 
and  then  in  our  walks,  and  to  have  him  read  or  discuss 
Shakespeare  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  evening.  He 
told  us  an  amusing  story  about  his  early  days.  When 
he  was  a  youth  of  sixteen  or  seventeen,  acting  at  Span- 
dau,  he  walked  to  Berlin  (about  nine  miles)  and  back 


1854-]  "Nathan  der  Weise"  261 

in  the  evening,  accompanied  by  a  watchmaker  named  Berlin, 

Recollec- 

Naundorff.  an  enthusiast  for  the  theatre.     On  their  way tions. 

J  1854-55. 

Dessoir  declaimed  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  was  en- 
couraged by  the  applause  of  his  companion  to  more 
and  more  exertion  of  lungs  and  limbs,  so  that  people 
stared  at  them,  and  followed  them,  as  if  they  thought 
them  two  madmen.  This  watchmaker  was  Louis 
XVII. !  Dessoir  also  imitated  admirably  Aldridge's 
mode  of  advancing  to  kill  Duncan — like  a  wild  Indian 
lurking  for  a  not  much  wilder  beast.  He  paid  us  the 
very  pretty  attention  of  getting  up  a  dinner  for  us  at 
Dietz's,  and  inviting  Rotscher  and  Forster  to  meet  us ; 
and  he  supplied  us  with  tickets  for  the  theatre,  which, 
however,  was  a  pleasure  we  used  sparingly.  The  first 
time  we  went  was  to  see  "Nathan  der  Weise" — a  real 
enjoyment,  for  the  elegant  theatre  was  new  to  us,  and 
the  scenery  was  excellent ;  better  than  I  saw  there  on 
any  subsequent  occasion.  Doring  performed  Nathan, 
and  we  thus  saw  him  for  the  first  time  to  great  advan- 
tage ;  for,  though  he  drags  down  this  part,  as  he  does 
all  others,  the  character  of  Nathan  sets  limits  which  he 
cannot  overstep  ;  and  though  we  lose  most  of  its  ele- 
vation in  Doring's  acting,  we  get,  en  revanche,  an  ad- 
mirable ease  and  naturalness.  His  fine,  clear  voice 
and  perfect  enunciation  told  excellently  in  the  famous 
monologue,  and  in  the  whole  scene  with  Saladin.  Our 
hearts  swelled  and  the  tears  came  into  our  eyes  as  we 
listened  to  the  noble  words  of  dear  Lessing,  whose 
great  spirit  lives  immortally  in  this  crowning  work  of  his. 
Our  great  anxiety  was  to  see  and  hear  Johanna 
Wagner,  so  we  took  tickets  for  the  "  Orpheus,"  which 
Mile.  Solmar  told  us  she  thought  her  best  part.  We 
were  thoroughly  delighted  both  with  her  and  her  music. 
The  caricatures  of  the  Furies,  the  ballet-girls,  and  the 


262  Johanna  Wagner.  [BERLIN, 

perlia,       butcher-like  Greek  shades  in  Elysium,  the  ugly,  scream- 

Kecollec-  * 

ing  Eurydice,  and  the  droll  appearance  of  Timzek  as 
Amor,  in  which  she  looked  like  a  shop-girl  who  has 
donned  a  masquerade  dress  impromptu,  without  chang- 
ing her  headdress — all  these  absurdities  were  rather  an 
amusement  than  a  drawback  to  our  pleasure ;  for  the 
Orpheus  was  perfect  in  himself,  and  looked  like  a  noble 
horse  among  mules  and  donkeys. 
Letter  to  Our  days  are  so  accurately  parcelled  out  that  my 

Miss  Sara  '  J 

Henneii,    time  for  letter-writing  is  rather  restricted,  and  for  every 

9th  Jan.  * 

1855-  letter  I  write  I  have  to  leave  out  something  which  we 
have  learned  to  think  necessary.  We  have  been  to 
hear  "  Fidelro  "  this  evening — not  well  executed,  ex- 
cept so  far  as  the  orchestra  was  concerned  ;  but  the 
divine  music  positively  triumphs  over  the  defects  of 
execution.  One  is  entirely  wrapped  in  the  idea  of  the 
composer.  Last  week  we  had  "  Orpheus  and  Eurydice," 
and  I  heard,  for  the  first  time,  at  once  an  opera  of 
Gluck's  and  Johanna  Wagner.  It  is  one  of  the  glories 
of  Berlin  to  give  Gluck's  operas,  and  it  is  also  something 
of  a  glory  to  have  "  die  Wagner."  She  is  really  a  fine  ac- 
tress and  a  fine  singer  ;  her  voice  is  not  ravishing,  but 
she  is  mistress  of  it.  I  thought  of  you  that  evening,  and 
wished  you  could  hear  and  see  what  I  know  would  in- 
terest you  greatly — I  refer  rather  to  Gluck's  opera  than 
to  Johanna  Wagner.  The  scene  in  which  Orpheus 
(Johanna  Wagner)  enters  Tartarus,  is  met  by  the  awful 
Shades,  and  charms  them  into  ecstatic  admiration  till 
they  make  way  for  him  to  pass  on,  is  very  fine.  The 
voices  —  except  in  the  choruses  —  are  all  women's 
voices  ;  and  there  are  only  three  characters — Orpheus, 
Amor,  and  Eurydice.  One  wonders  that  Pluto  does 
not  come  as  a  basso  ;  and  one  would  prefer  Mercury 
as  a  tenor  to  Amor  in  the  shape  of  an  ugly  German 


/855-1  Professor  Stahr.  263 

soprano  ;  but  Gluck  wished  it  otherwise,  and  the  music  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

is  delightful.  I  am  reading  a  charming  book  by  Henneii, 
Professor  Stahr — who  is  one  of  our  acquaintances  here  1855. 
— "  Torso :  Kunst,  Kiinstler,  und  Kunst  Werke  der 
Alten."  It  feeds  the  fresh  interest  I  am  now  feeling  in 
art.  Professor  Stahr  is  a  very  erudite  man,  and,  what  is 
very  much  rarer  among  Germans,  a  good  writer,  who 
knows  how  to  select  his  materials,  and  has,  above  all, 
a  charming  talent  for  description.  We  saw  at  his  house 
the  other  night  the  first  portrait  of  Schiller  which 
convinces  me  of  a  likeness  to  him.  It  is  the  copy  of  a 
miniature  which  has  never  been  engraved.  The  face  is 
less  beautiful  than  that  of  the  ordinary  busts  and  por- 
traits, but  is  very  remarkable — the  eyes  blue,  the  com- 
plexion very  fair  (the  picture  was  taken  in  his  youth), 
and  the  hair  sunny.  He  has  the  long  "  goose-neck  " 
which  he  describes  as  belonging  to  Carl  Moor  in  the 
"  Robbers,"  and  the  forehead  isfuyant  in  correspond- 
ence with  the  skull.  The  piteous  contrast  there  is  be- 
tween the  anxiety  poor  Schiller  is  constantly  expressing 
about  a  livelihood — about  the  thalers  he  has  to  pay  for 
this  and  the  thalers  he  has  to  receive  for  that — and 
Goethe's  perfect  ease  in  that  respect  !  For  the  "  His- 
tory of  the  Netherlands  "  he  got  little  more  than  fifteen 
shillings  per  sheet.  I  am  very  much  interested  in 
Professor  Gruppe  as  a  type  of  the  German  Gelehrter. 
He  has  written  books  on  everything — on  the  Greek 
drama,  a  great  book  on  the  cosmic  system  of  the 
Greeks,  an  epic,  numberless  lyric  poems,  etc.;  he  has 
a  philosophical  work  and  a  history  of  literature  in  the 
press;  is  professor  of  philosophy  at  the  university;  is 
enthusiastic  about  boar -hunting,  and  has  written  a 
volume  of  hunting  poems — and  Ich  weiss  nicht  was. 
Withal  he  is  as  simple  as  a  child.  When  we  go  to  see 


264  Roger  and  Arabella  Goddard.      [BERLIN, 

Letter  to    them  in  the  evening  we  find  him  wrapped  in  a  moth-eat- 

M  iss  Sara 

Henneii,  en  gray  coat  and  a  cap  on  his  head.  Then  he  reads  us  a 
>85s-  translation  of  one  of  the  Homeric  hymns,  and  goes 
into  the  most  naive  impersonal  ecstasy  at  the  beauty  of 
his  own  poetry  (which  is  really  good).  The  other  night 
he  read  us  part  of  an  epic  which  is  still  in  MS.,  and  is 
to  be  read  before  the  king — such  is  the  fashion  here. 
And  his  little  wife,  who  is  about  twenty  years  younger 
than  himself,  listens  with  loving  admiration.  Alto- 
gether, they  and  their  two  little  children  are  a  charm- 
ing picture. 
Berlin,  \Ve  went  to  only  one  concert,  for  which  Vivier  was 

Recollec-  J 

tions,        kind  enough  to  send  us  tickets.     It  was  given  by  him 
'854-55. 

and  Roger,  assisted  by  Arabella  Goddard  and  Johanna 

Wagner.  Roger's  singing  of  the  "Erl  King"  was  a 
treat  not  to  be  forgotten.  He  gave  the  full  effect  to 
Schubert's  beautiful  and  dramatic  music ;  and  his  way 
of  falling  from  melody  into  awe-struck  speech  in  the 
final  words  "  War  todt "  abides  with  one.  I  never  felt 
so  thoroughly  the  beauty  of  that  divine  ballad  before. 
The  king  was  present  in  all  his  toothlessnessand  blink- 
ingness;  and  the  new  princess  from  Anhalt  Dessau, 
young  and  delicate-looking,  was  there  too.  Arabella 
Goddard  played  the  "  Harmonious  Blacksmith  "  charm- 
ingly, and  then  Wagner  sang  badly  two  ineffective  Ger- 
man songs,  and  Halevy's  duet  from  the  "  Reine  de 
Chypre  "  with  Roger. 

Vivier  is  amusing.  He  says  Germans  take  off  their 
hats  on  all  possible  pretexts  —  not  for  the  sake  of 
politeness,  but  pour  etre  embarrassants.  They  have 
wide  streets,  simply  to  embarrass  you,  by  making  it 
impossible  to  descry  a  shop  or  a  friend.  A  German 
always  has  three  gloves — "On  ne  sait  pas  pourquoi." 
There  is  a  clog-tax  in  order  to  maintain  a  narrow  trot- 


1855.]  Vivier  Anecdotes.  265 

toir  in  Berlin,  and  every  one  who  keeps  a  dog  feels  Berlin, 

J  °  Recollec- 

authcrized  to  keep  the  trottoir  and  move  aside  for  no4*0118* 

1854-55. 

one.  If  he  has  two  dogs  he  drives  out  of  the  trottoir 
the  man  who  has  only  one  :  the  very  dogs  begin  to  be 
aware  of  it.  If  you  kick  one  when  he  is  off  the  trottoir 
he  will  bear  it  patiently,  but  on  the  trottoir\\z  resents  it 
vehemently.  He  gave  us  quite  a  bit  of  Moliere  in  a 
description  of  a  mystification  at  a  restaurant.  He  says 
to  the  waiter — "  Vous  voyez  ce  monsieur  la.  C'est  le 
pauvre  M.  Colignon."  (II  faut  qu'il  soit  quelq'un  qui 
prend  tres  peu — une  tasse  de  cafe'  ou  comme  c.a,  et 
qui  ne  de'pense  pas  trop.)  "  Je  suis  son  ami.  II  est 
fou.  Je  le  garde.  Combien  doit-il  payer?"  "  Un 
franc."  "  Voila."  Then  Vivier  goes  out.  Presently 
the  so-called  M.  Colignon  asks  how  much  he  has  to 
pay,  and  is  driven  to  exasperation  by  the  reiterated 
assurance  of  the  waiter  —  "  C'est  payd,  M.  Colign- 
on." 

The  first  work  of  art  really  worth  looking  at  that  one 
sees  at  Berlin  is  the  "  Rosse-bandiger "  in  front  of 
the  palace.  It  is  by  a  sculptor  named  Cotes,  who 
made  horses  his  especial  study;  and  certainly,  to  us, 
they  eclipsed  the  famous  Colossi  at  Monte  Cavallo, 
casts  of  which  are  in  the  new  museum. 

The  collection  of  pictures  at  the  old  museum  has 
three  gems,  which  remain  in  the  imagination — Titian's 
Daughter,  Correggio's  Jupiter  and  lo,  and  his  Head 
of  Christ  on  the  Handkerchief.  I  was  pleased  also  to 
recognize  among  the  pictures  the  one  by  Jan  Steen, 
which  Goethe  describes  in  the  "  Wahlverwandschaften" 
as  the  model  of  a  tableau  vivant,  presented  by  Luciane 
and  her  friends.  It  is  the  daughter  being  reproved  by 
her  father,  while  the  mother  is  emptying  her  wine- 
glass. It  is  interesting  to  see  the  statue  of  Napoleon, 

12 


266  Evenings  in  Berlin.  [BERLIN, 

Berlin,       the  worker  of  so  much  humiliation  to  Prussia,  placed 

Recollec- 
tions,        opposite  that  of  Julius  Caesar. 

They  were  very  happy  months  we  spent  at  Berlin,  in 
spite  of  the  bitter  cold  which  came  on  in  January  and 
lasted  almost  till  we  left.  How  we  used  to  rejoice  in 
the  idea  of  our  warm  room  and  coffee  as  we  battled 
our  way  from  dinner  against  the  wind  and  snow  !  Then 
came  the  delightful  long  evening,  in  which  we  read 
Shakespeare,  Goethe,  Heine,  and  Macaulay,  with  Ger- 
man Pfefferkuchen  and  Semmels  at  the  end  to  complete 
the  nodes  cenceque  de&m. 

We  used  often  to  turn  out  for  a  little  walk  in  the  even- 
ing, when  it  was  not  too  cold,  to  refresh  ourselves  by  a 
little  pure  air  as  a  change  from  the  stove-heated  room. 
Our  favorite  walk  was  along  the  Linden,  in  the  broad 
road  between  the  trees.  We  used  to  pace  to  old  Fritz's 
monument,  which  loomed  up  dark  and  mysterious 
against  the  sky.  Once  or  twice  we  went  along  the  gas- 
lighted  walk  towards  Kroll's.  One  evening  in  our  last 
week  we  went  on  to  the  bridge  leading  to  theWilhclm 
Stadt,  and  there  by  moon  and  gas  light  saw  the  only 
bit  of  picturesqueness  Berlin  afforded  us.  The  outline 
of  the  Schloss  towards  the  water  is  very  varied,  and  a 
light  in  one  of  the  windows  near  the  top  of  a  tower  was 
a  happy  accident.  The  row  of  houses  on  the  other 
side  of  the  water  was  shrouded  in  indistinctness,  and 
no  ugly  object  marred  the  scene.  The  next  day,  under 
the  light  of  the  sun,  it  was  perfectly  prosaic. 

Our  table  (Thole  at  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe  was  so  slow 
in  its  progress  from  one  course  to  another,  and  there 
was  so  little  encouragement  to  talk  to  our  neighbors, 
that  we  used  to  take  our  books  by  way  of  beguiling  the 
time.  Lessing's  "  Hamburgische  Briefe,"  which  I  am 
not  likely  to  take  up  again,  will  thus  remain  associated 


1855.]  Leave  Berlin.  267 

in  my  memory  with  my  place  at  the  table  d'hdfe.     The  Berlin, 

J  J  J   r  Recollec- 

companyhere,  as  almost  everywhere  else  in  Berlin,  wastions» 

i854~55* 

sprinkled  with  officers.  Indeed,  the  swords  of  officers 
threaten  one's  legs  at  every  turn  in  the  streets,  and  one 
sighs  to  think  how  these  unproductive  consumers  of 
Wurst,  with  all  their  blue  and  scarlet  broadcloth,  are 
maintained  out  of  the  pockets  of  the  community. 
Many  of  the  officers  and  privates  are  startlingly  tall ; 
indeed,  some  of  them  would  match,  I  should  think,  with 
the  longest  of  Friedrich  Wilhelm's  lange  Kerle. 

It  was  a  bitterly  cold,  sleety  morning — the  nth  of 
March — when  we  set  out  from  Berlin,  leaving  behind 
us,  alas !  G.'s  rug,  which  should  have  kept  his  feet 
warm  on  the  journey.  Our  travelling  companions  to 
Cologne  were  fat  Madame  Roger,  her  little  daughter, 
and  her  dog,  and  a  queen's  messenger — a  very  agree- 
able man,  who  afterwards  persuaded  another  of  the 
same  vocation  to  join  us  for  the  sake  of  warmth.  This 
poor  man's  teeth  were  chattering  with  cold,  though  he 
was  wrapped  in  fur ;  and  we,  all  furless  as  we  were, 
pitied  him,  and  were  thankful  that  at  least  we  were  not 
feverish  and  ill,  as  he  evidently  was.  We  saw  the  im- 
mortal old  town  of  Wolfenbiittel  at  a  distance,  as  we 
rolled  along ;  beyond  this  there  was  nothing  of  interest 
in  our  first  day's  journey,  and  the  only  incident  was 
the  condemnation  of  poor  Madame  Roger's  dog  to  the 
dog-box,  apart  from  its  mistress  with  her  warm  cloaks. 
She  remonstrated  in  vain  with  a  brutal  German  official, 
and  it  was  amusing  to  hear  him  say  to  her  in  German, 
"  Wenn  sie  Deutsch  nicht  verstehen  konnen."  "  Eh 
bein — prenez  la."  "  Ah  !  quel  satan  de  pays  !"  was 
her  final  word,  as  she  held  out  the  shivering  little 
beast. 

We  stayed  at  Cologne,  and   next  morning  walked 


268  Work  at  Weimar  and  Berlin.      [BEILIN, 

Berlin,       out  to  look  at  the  cathedral    again.     Melancholy  as 

kecollec-  * 

tions,        ever  in  its  impression  upon  me !     From  Cologne  to 
"854-55- 

Brussels  we  had  some  rather  interesting  companions, 

in  two  French  artists  who  were  on  their  way  from 
Russia.  Strange  beings  they  looked  to  us  at  first,  in 
their  dirty  linen,  Russian  caps,  and  other  queer  equip- 
ments ;  but  in  this,  as  in  many  other  cases,  I  found 
that  a  first  impression  was  an  extremely  mistaken  one 
— for  instead  of  being,  as  I  imagined,  common,  unculti- 
vated men,  they  were  highly  intelligent. 

At  Brussels,  as  we  took  our  supper,  we  had  the 
pleasure  of  looking  at  Berlioz's  fine  head  and  face,  he 
being  employed  in  the  same  way  on  the  other  side  of 
the  table.  The  next  morning  to  Calais. 

They  were  pleasant  days  those  at  Weimar  and 
Berlin,  and  they  were  working  clays.  Mr.  Lewes  was 
engaged  in  completing  his  "Life  of  Goethe,"  which 
had  been  begun  some  time  before,  but  which  was 
now  for  the  most  part  rewritten.  At  Weimar,  George 
Eliot  wrote  the  article  on  Victor  Cousin's  "  Madame 
de  Sable  "  for  the  Westminster  Review.  It  was  be- 
gun on  5th  August,  and  sent  off  on  8th  September. 
At  Berlin  she  nearly  finished  the  translation  of 
Spinoza's  "Ethics" — begun  on  5th  November — 
and  wrote  an  article  on  Vehse's  "  Court  of  Aus- 
tria," which  was  begun  on  23d  January,  and  fin- 
ished 4th  March,  1855.  Besides  this  writing,  I 
find  the  following  among  the  books  that  were  en- 
gaging their  attention  ;  and  in  collecting  the  names 
from  George  Eliot's  Journal,  I  have  transcribed 
any  remarks  she  makes  on  them  : 
Sainte-Beuve,  Goethe's  "  Wahlverwandschaften,"  Ra- 
meau's  "  Neffe,"  "  Egmont,"  "  The  Hoggarty  Diamond," 
Moore's  "Life  of  Sheridan  " — a  first-rate  specimen  of 


i855-]  Books  Read.  269 

bad  biographical  writing  ;  "  Gotz  "  and  the  "  Burger 
General,"  Uhland's  poems,  "Wilhelm  Meister,"  Ro- 
senkranz  on  the  Faust  Sage,  Heine's  poems,  Shake- 
speare's plays  ("Merchant  of  Venice,"  "Romeo  and 
Juliet,"  "Julius  Caesar" — very  much  struck  with  the 
masculine  style  of  this  play,  and  its  vigorous  modera- 
tion, compared  with  "  Romeo  and  Juliet " — "  Antony 
and  Cleopatra,"  "Henry  IV.,"  "Othello,"  "As  You 
Like  It,"  "Lear" — sublimely  powerful — "Taming  of 
the  Shrew,"  "  Coriolanus,"  "  Twelfth  Night,"  "  Meas- 
ure for  Measure,"  "Midsummer-Night's  Dream,""  Win- 
ter's Tale,"  "Richard  III.,"  "Hamlet");  Lessing's 
"  Laocoon  " — the  most  un-German  of  all  the  German 
books  that  I  have  ever  read.  The  style  is  strong, 
clear,  and  lively ;  the  thoughts  acute  and  pregnant. 
It  is  well  adapted  to  rouse  an  interest  both  in  the 
classics  and  in  the  study  of  art;  "Emilia  Galotti" 
seems  to  me  a  wretched  mistake  of  Lessing's.  The 
Roman  myth  of  Virginius  is  grand,  but  the  situation, 
transported  to  modern  times  and  divested  of  its  po- 
litical bearing,  is  simply  shocking.  Read  "Briefe 
iiber  Spinoza"  (Jacobi's),  "Nathan  der  Weise,"  Fanny 
Lewald's  " Wandlungen,"  "Minna  von  Barnhelm," 
"Italianische  Reise,"  the  "Residence  in  Rome;"  a 
beautiful  description  of  Rome  and  the  Coliseum  by 
moonlight — a  fire  made  in  the  Coliseum  sending  its 
smoke,  silvered  by  the  moonlight,  through  the  arches 
of  the  mighty  walls.  Amusing  story  of  Goethe's  land- 
lady's cat  worshipping  Jupiter  by  licking  his  beard — a 
miracle,  in  her  esteem,  explained  by  Goethe  as  a  dis- 
covery the  cat  had  made  of  the  oil  lodging  in  the  un- 
dulations of  the  beard.  "Residence  in  Naples" — 
pretty  passage  about  a  star  seen  through  a  chink  in 
the  ceiling  as  he  lay  in  bed.  It  is  remarkable  that 


270  Remarks  on  Books  Read.          [BERLIN, 

when  Goethe  gets  to  Sicily  he  is,  for  the  first  time  in 
Italy,  enthusiastic  in  his  descriptions  of  natural  beau- 
ty. Read  Scherr's  "  Geschichte  Deutscher  Cultur  und 
Sitte  " — much  interested  in  his  sketch  of  German  po- 
etry in  the  Middle  Ages;  "Iphigenia."  Looked  into 
the  "  Xenien,"  and  amused  ourselves  with  their  point- 
lessness.  "  Hermann  and  Dorothea,"  "  Tasso,"  "  Wan- 
derjahre" — d  mourir  (f  ennui ;  Heine's  "Gestandnisse" 
— immensely  amused  with  the  wit  of  it  in  the  first  fifty 
pages,  but  afterwards  it  burns  low,  and  the  want  of 
principle  and  purpose  make  it  wearisome.  Lessing's 
"  Hamburgische  Briefe."  Read  Goethe's  wonderful 
observations  on  Spinoza.  Particularly  struck  with 
the  beautiful  modesty  of  the  passage  in  which  he  says 
he  cannot  presume  to  say  that  he  thoroughly  under- 
stands Spinoza.  Read  "Dichtung  und  Wahiheit," 
Knight's  "  Studies  of  Shakespeare."  Talked  of  the 
"Wahlverwandschaften  "  with  Stahr — he  finding  fault 
with  the  denouement,  which  I  defended.  Read  Stahr's 
"Torso" — too  long-winded  a  style  for  reading  aloud. 
Knight's  "History  of  Painting."  Compared  several 
scenes  of  "  Hamlet  "  in  Schlegel's  translation  with  the 
original.  It  is  generally  very  close,  and  often  admi- 
rably well  done ;  but  Shakespeare's  strong,  concrete 
language  is  almost  always  weakened.  For  example, 
"Though  this  hand  were  thicker  than  itself  in  brother's 
blood"  is  rendered,  "Auch  um  und  um  in  Bruder's 
Blut  getauchet."  The  prose  speeches  of  Hamlet  lose 
all  their  felicity  in  the  translation.  Read  Stahr  on  the 
Eginetan  Sculptures,  "Die  Neue  Melusine,"  "West- 
Ostliche  Divan,"  Gervinus  on  Shakespeare — found  it 
unsatisfactory  ;  Stahr's  "  Ein  Jahr  in  Italien  " — the  de- 
scription of  Florence  excellent.  Read  the  wonderful- 
ly beautiful  "  Romische  Elegien  "  again,  and  some  of 


1855.]  Return  to  England.  271 

the  Venetian  epigrams,  Vehse's  "Court  of  Austria  "- 
called  on  Miss  Assing  to  try  and  borrow  the  book  from 
Varnhagen.  He  does  not  possess  it,  so  G.  called  on 
Vehse,  and  asked  him  to  lend  it  to  me.  He  was  very 
much  pleased  to  do  so.  Read  the  "Zueignung,"  the 
"Gedichte,"  and  several  of  the  ballads.  Looked 
through  Wraxall's  "  Memoirs."  Read  Macaulay's 
"  History  of  England."  Wrote  article  on  Stahr. 

This  writing  and  reading,  combined  with  visiting, 
theatre-going,  and  opera-going,  make  a  pretty  full 
life  for  these  eight  months — a  striking  contrast  to 
the  coming  months  of  complete  social  quietness  in 
England.     Both  lives  had  their  attractions,  the  su- 
perficial aspects  of  which  may  be  summed  up  in  a 
passage  from  the  Journal,  dated  13111  March,  1855, 
on  arrival  at  the  Lord  Warden  Hotel,  at  Dover : 
English  mutton  and  an  English  fire  were  likely  to  be  ap- 
preciated by  creatures  who  had  had  eight  months  of 
Germany,  with  its  questionable  meat  and  its  stove-heat- 
ed rooms.     The  taste  and  quietude  of  a  first-rate  Eng- 
lish hotel  were  also  in  striking  contrast  with  the  heavy 
finery,  the  noise,  and  the  indiscriminate  smoking  of 
German  inns.     But,  after  all,  Germany  is  no  bad  place 
to  live  in ;  and  the  Germans,  to  counterbalance  their 
want  of  taste  and  politeness,  are  at  least  free  from  the 
bigotry  of  exclusiveness  of  their  more  refined  cousins. 
I  even  long  to  be  among  them  again — to  see  Dresden 
and  Munich  and  Niirnberg  and  the  Rhine  country. 
May  the  day  soon  come  ! 


SUMMARY. 

JULY,  1854,  TO  MARCH,  1855. 

Leaves  London  with  Mr.  Lewes  for  Antwerp — Rubens's  pict- 
ures— Cologne — Dr.  Brabant   and    Strauss — Weimar — Scholl — 


2J2  Summary  of  Chapter  VI.          [1854-55. 

The  Dichter  Zimmer  —  Sauppe  —  Tiefurt  —  Ettersburg — Arthur 
Helps — Gabel-Bach  and  Kickel-hahn — Liszt — Wagner's  operas 
— "  Der  Freischiitz  "—Schiller's  house— Goethe's  house— Garten- 
haus — Ober  Weimar — The  Webicht — Marquis  de  Ferriere — 
Liszt  anecdotes  —  Cornelius  —  Raff — Princess  Wittgenstein — 
Liszt's  playing — Scheffer's  picture — Expenses  at  Weimar — Leave 
for  Berlin — Meet  Varnhagen — Thiergarten — Acquaintances  in 
Berlin — Fraulein  Solmar — Professor  Gruppe — Epic  of  Firdusi — 
Waagen — Edward  Magnus — Professor  Stahr  and  Fanny  Lewald 
— Rauch  the  sculptor — Kant's  statue — Dessoir  the  actor — "  Na- 
than der  Weise" — Boring's  acting — Johanna  Wagner — Letter 
to  Miss  Hennell— "  Fidelio  "—Reading  Stahr's  "  Torso  "—Like- 
ness of  Schiller — Vivier — Roger  and  Arabella  Goddard — The 
Rosse-bandiger —  Pictures  —  Cold  in  Berlin — View  of  Schloss 
from  bridge — Leave  Berlin  for  England — Books  read — Article 
written  on  "Madame  de  Sable" — Translation  of  Spinoza's  "  Ethics" 
—Article  on  Vehse's  "  Court  of  Austria  "—Article  on  Stahr. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
March  14. — Took  lodgings  at  i  Sydney  Place,  Do- Journal, 

Mch.  1855. 

ver. 

March  15. — A  lovely  day.  As  I  walked  up  the  Cas- 
tle hill  this  afternoon  the  town,  with  its  background  of 
softly  rounded  hills  shrouded  in  sleepy  haze,  its  little 
lines  of  water  looking  golden  in  the  sun,  made  a  charm- 
ing picture.  I  have  written  the  preface  to  the  Third 
Book  of  "Ethics,"  read  Scherr,  and  Shakespeare's  "Ve- 
nus and  Adonis." 

March  16. — I  read  Shakespeare's  "Passionate  Pil- 
grim "  at  breakfast,  and  found  a  sonnet  in  which  he 
expresses  admiration  of  Spenser  (Sonnet  viii.) : 

"  Dowland  to  thee  is  dear,  whose  heavenly  touch 

Upon  the  lute  doth  ravish  human  sense ; 
Spenser  to  me,  whose  deep  conceit  is  such 
As,  passing  all  conceit,  needs  no  defence." 1 

I  must  send  word  of  this  to  G.,  who  has  written  in 
his  "Goethe"  that  Shakespeare  has  left  no  line  in 
praise  of  a  contemporary.  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  walking  out  before  I  sat  down  to  work. 
Came  in  at  half-past  ten,  and  translated  Spinoza  till 
nearly  one.  Walked  out  again  till  two.  After  dinner 
read  "  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  "  and  some  of  the 
"  Sonnets."  That  play  disgusted  me  more  than  ever 
in  the  final  scene,  where  Valentine,  on  Proteus's  mere 
begging  pardon,  when  he  has  no  longer  any  hope  of 

>   G.  writes  that  this  sonnet  is  Barnwell's. — [Note  written  later.] 

12* 


274         Happier  for  Experience  Abroad.    [DOVER, 

Toumai,  gaining  his  ends,  says :  "  All  that  was  mine  in  Sylvia, 
I  give  thee  !"  Silvia  standing  by.  Walked  up  the  Cas- 
tle hill  again,  and  came  in  at  six.  Read  Scherr,  and 
found  an  important  hint  that  I  have  made  a  mistake  in 
a  sentence  of  my  article  on  "  Austria  "  about  the  death 
of  Franz  von  Sickingen. 

Letter  to        I  dare  say  you  will  be  surprised  to  see  that  I  write 

Miss  Sara  J    J 

Henneii,    from   Dover.     We  left  Berlin   on   the   nth.     I   have 

i6th  Mch. 

"855-  taken  lodgings  here  for  a  little  while,  until  Mr.  Lewes 
has  concluded  some  arrangements  in  London  ;  and, 
with  the  aid  of  lovely  weather,  am  even  enjoying  my 
solitude,  though  I  don't  mind  how  soon  it  ends.  News 
of  you  all  at  Rosehill — how  health  and  business  and 
all  other  things  are  faring — would  be  very  welcome  to 
me,  if  you  can  find  time  for  a  little  note  of  homely  de- 
tails. I  am  well  and  calmly  happy  —  feeling  much 
stronger  and  clearer  in  mind  for  the  last  eight  months 
of  new  experience.  We  were  sorry  to  leave  our  quiet 
rooms  and  agreeable  friends  in  Berlin,  though  the 
place  itself  is  certainly  ugly,  and  am  Ende  must  be- 
come terribly  wearisome  for  those  who  have  not  a  vo- 
cation there.  We  went  again  and  again  to  the  new 
museum  to  look  at  the  casts  of  the  Parthenon  Sculpt- 
ures, and  registered  a  vow  that  we  would  go  to  feast 
on  the  sight  of  the  originals  the  first  day  we  could 
spare  in  London.  I  had  never  cast  more  than  a  fleet- 
ing look  on  them  before,  but  now  I  can  in  some  de- 
gree understand  the  effect  they  produced  on  their  first 
discovery. 

journal.  March  25. — A  note  from  Mr.  Chapman,  in  which  he 
asks  me  to  undertake  part  of  the  Contemporary  Lit- 
erature for  the  Westminster  Review. 

April  18. — Came  to  town,  to  lodgings  in  Bayswater. 

April  23. — Fixed  on  lodgings  at  East  Sheen. 


1855.]  Reading  and  Writing.  275 

April  25. — Went  to  the  British  Museum.  journal, 

1855. 
April  28. — Finished  article  on  "  Weimar,"  for  Fraser. 

During  this  month  George  Eliot  was  finishing 
the  translating  and  revising  of  Spinoza's  "  Ethics,"  . 
and  was  still  reading  Scherr's  book,  Schrader's 
"German  Mythology"  —  a  poor  book — "The 
Tempest,"  "Macbeth,"  "  Niebelungenlied,"  "Ro- 
meo and  Juliet,"  article  on  "  Dryden  "  in  the  West- 
minster, "  Reineke  Fuchs,"  "  Genesis  of  Science," 
Gibbon,  "  Henry  V.,"  "  Henry  VIII.,"  first,  second, 
and  third  parts  of  "  Henry  VI.,"  "  Richard  II." 
May  2. — Came  to  East  Sheen,  and  settled  in  our  lodg- 
ings. 

May  28. — Sent  Belles-lettres  section  to  Westminster 
Review.  During  May  several  articles  were  written  for 
the  Leader. 

June  13.  — Began  Part  IV.  of  Spinoza's  "Ethics." 
Began  also  to  read  Gumming,  for  article  in  the  West- 
minster. We  are  reading  in  the  evenings  now  Sydney 
Smith's  letters,  Boswell,  Whewell's  "  History  of  In- 
ductive Sciences,"  "The  Odyssey,"  and  occasionally 
Heine's  "Reisebilder."  I  began  the  second  book  of 
the  "Iliad,"  in  Greek,  this  morning. 

June  21. — Finished  article  on  Brougham's  "Lives 
of  Men  of  Letters." 

June  23. — Read  "  Lucrezia  Floriani."  We  are  read- 
ing White's  "  History  of  Selborne  "  in  the  evening,  with 
Boswell  and  the  "  Odyssey." 

I  have  good  hope  that  vou  will  be  deeply  interested  Le»cr  *° 

'  r  J  Miss  Sara 

in  the  "Life  of  Goethe."     It  is  a  book  full  of  feeling,  Henr.eii, 

&'  2jd  Juue, 

as  well  as  of  thought  and  information,  and  I  even  think  l8ss- 
it  will  make  you  love  Goethe  as  well  as  admire  him. 
Eckermann's  is  a  wonderful  book,  but  only  represents 
Goethe  at  eighty.     We  were  fortunate  enough  to  be  in 


276  The  "Life  of  Goethe"     [EAST  SHEEN, 

j£tte£to    time  to  see  poor  Eckermnnn  before  his  total  death. 
MISS  san 

Henncii,    His  mind  was  already  half  gone,  but  the  fine  brow 

Z3d  June,  J 

l8ss-  and  eyes  harmonized  entirely  with  the  interest  we  had 
previously  felt  in  him.  We  saw  him  in  a  small  lodg- 
ing, surrounded  by  singing  birds,  and  tended  by  his 
son — an  intelligent  youth  of  sixteen,  who  showed  some 
talent  in  drawing.  I  have  written  a  castigation  of 
Brougham  for  the  Leader,  and  shall  be  glad  if  your 
sympathy  goes  along  with  it.  Varnhagen  has  written 
"Denkwiirdigkeiten,"  and  all  sorts  of  literature,  and 
is,  or,  rather  was,  the  husband  tfRahel,  the  greatest  of 
German  women. 

letter  to        it  was  SUrely  you  who  wrote  the  notice  of  the  West- 

Miss  Sara  •    • 

Henneii,    minster  in  the  Herald  (Coventry)  which  we  received 

aist  July,  *  ' 

l855-  this  morning.  I  am  very  much  pleased  with  your  ap- 
preciation of  Mr.  Lewes's  article.  You  hardly  do  jus- 
tice to  Froude's  article  on  "  Spinoza."  I  don't  at  all 
agree  with  Froude's  own  views,  but  I  think  his  ac- 
count of  Spinoza's  doctrines  admirable.  Mr.  Lewes 
is  still  sadly  ailing  —  tormented  with  tooth  and  face 
ache.  This  is  a  terrible  trial  to  us  poor  scribblers,  to 
whom  health  is  money,  as  well  as  all  other  things 
worth  having.  I  have  just  been  reading  that  Milton 
suffered  from  indigestion  —  quite  an  affecting  fact  to 
me.  I  send  you  a  letter  which  I  have  had  from  Bar- 
bara Smith.  I  think  you  will  like  to  see  such  a  mani- 
festation of  her  strong,  noble  nature. 

On  ist  August,  1855,  Mr.  Lewes  went  down  to 
Ramsgate  for  change,  taking  his  three  boys  with 
him  for  a  week's  holiday.  Meantime  George  Eliot 
was  continuing  her  article-writing,  and  in  this  week 
wrote  an  article  for  the  Leader,  having  written  one 
for  the  same  journal  three  weeks  before.  On  220! 
August  she  wrote  another  article  for  the  Leader, 


1855.]  Article  on  Cumming.  277 

and  on  the  24th  she  finished  the  one  on  Gumming 
for  the  Westminster.  Mr.  C.  Lewes  tells  me  that 
he  remembers  it  was  after  reading  this  article  that 
his  father  was  prompted  to  say  to  George  Eliot, 
while  walking  one  day  with  her  in  Richmond  Park, 
that  it  convinced  him  of  the  true  genius  in  her  writ- 
ing. Mr.  Lewes  was  not  only  an  accomplished  and 
practised  literary  critic,  but  he  was  also  gifted  with 
the  inborn  insight  accompanying  a  fine  artistic 
temperament,  which  gave  unusual  weight  to  his 
judgment.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  not  been  quite 
sure  of  anything  beyond  great  talent  in  her  produc- 
tions. 

The  first  three  weeks  in  September  were  again 
busily  occupied  in  article-writing.  She  contributed 
three  papers  to  the  Leader,  as  well  as  the  Belles- 
lettres  section  for  the  October  number  of  the  West- 
minster. On  the  igth  September  they  left  East 
Sheen,  and  after  spending  a  couple  of  weeks  at 
Worthing  for  a  sea  change,  they  took  rooms  at  8 
Park  Shot,  Richmond,  which  remained  their  home 
for  more  than  three  years.  Here  some  of  George 
Eliot's  most  memorable  literary  work  was  accom- 
plished. Both  she  and  Mr.  Lewes  were  now  work- 
ing very  hard  for  what  would  bring  immediate 
profit,  as  they  had  to  support  not  only  themselves 
but  his  children  and  their  mother.  They  had  only 
one  sitting-room  between  them ;  and  I  remember,  in 
a  walk  on  St.  George's  Hill,  near  Weybridge,  in  1871, 
she  told  me  that  the  scratching  of  another  pen  used 
to  affect  her  nerves  to  such  an  extent  that  it  nearly 
drove  her  wild.  On  the  gth  October  she  finished  an 
article  on  Margaret  Fuller  and  Mary  Wollstone- 
craft,  and  on  the  i2th  October  one  on  Carlyle 


278  Article  on  Gumming.          [RICHMOND, 

for  the  Leader,  and  began  an  article  on  Heine  for 
the  January  number  of  the  Westminster.     In  Oc- 
tober there  are  the  following  letters  to  the  Brays  : 
Charles0    Since  you  ^ave  f°und  out  the  "  Gumming,"  I  write  by 
Mfonda      to-day's  post  just  to  say  that  it  is  mine,  but  also  to  beg 
Oct.  (?)      ^at  you  will  not  mention  it  as  such  to  any  one  likely 
to  transmit  the  information  to  London,  as  we  are  keep- 
ing the  authorship  a  secret.     The  article  appears  to 
have  produced  a  strong  impression,  and  that  impression 
would  be  a  little  counteracted  if  the  author  were  known 
to  be  a  woman.    I  have  had  a  letter  addressed  "  to  the 
author  of  Article  No.  4,"  begging  me  to  print  it  sepa- 
rately "for  the  good  of  mankind  in  general!"     It  is 
so  kind  of  you  to  rejoice  in  anything  I  do  at  all  well. 
I  am  dreadfully  busy  again,  for  I  am  going  to  write  an 
article  for  the  Westminster  Review  again,  besides  my 
other  work.    We  enjoy  our  new  lodgings  very  much — 
everything  is  the  pink  of  order  and  cleanliness. 
Letterto        Why  you  should  object  to  Herbert  Spencer  speak- 
Henneii,    jntr  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  contributions  to  a  theory 

i6th  Oct  &  J 

iSss-  of  perception  as  "  valuable  "  I  am  unable  to  conceive. 
Sir  William  Hamilton  has  been  of  service  to  him  as 
well  as  to  others ;  and  instead  of  repressing  acknowl- 
edgments of  merit  in  others,  I  should  like  them  to  be 
more  freely  given.  I  see  no  dignity,  or  anything  else 
that  is  good,  in  ignoring  one's  fellow-beings.  Herbert 
Spencer's  views,  like  every  other  man's  views,  could 
not  have  existed  without  the  substratum  laid  by  his 
predecessors.  But  perhaps  you  mean  something  that 
I  fail  to  perceive.  Your  bit  of  theology  is  very  fine. 
Here  is  a  delicious  Hibernicism  in  return.  In  a  trea- 
tise on  consumption,  sent  yesterday,  the  writer  says : 
"  There  is  now  hardly  any  difference  on  this  subject — 
at  least  /  feel  none."  Our  life  has  no  incidents  ex- 


i855-]  Physiological  Reading.  279 

cept  such  as  take  place  in  our  own  brains,  and  the  oc-  Better  to 

Miss  Sara 

casional  arrival  of  a  longer  letter  than  usual.     Yours  Henneii, 

ibth  Oct. 

are  always  read  aloud  and  enjoyed.  Nevertheless  our  JSss- 
life  is  intensely  occupied,  and  the  days  are  far  too 
short.  We  are  reading  Gall's  "Anatomie  et  Physi- 
ologie  du  Cerveau,"  and  Carpenter's  "  Comparative 
Physiology,"  aloud  in  the  evenings ;  and  I  am  trying 
to  fix  some  knowledge  about  plexuses  and  ganglia  in 
my  soft  brain,  which  generally  only  serves  me  to  re- 
member that  there  is  something  I  ought  to  remember, 
and  to  regret  that  I  did  not  put  the  something  down 
in  my  note-book.  For  "  Live  and  learn,"  we  should 
sometimes  read  "  Live  and  grow  stupid." 

You  will  receive  by  rail  to-morrow  a  copy  of  the  Letter  to 

*  r-7  Charles 

"Life  and  Works  of  Goethe"  (published  on  ist  No-Bray,  2ist 

Nov.  1855. 

vember),  which  I  hope  you  will  accept  as  a  keepsake 
from  me.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  send  it  you  ear- 
lier, but  as  Mr.  Lewes  has  sold  the  copyright  of  the 
first  edition,  he  has  only  a  small  number  of  copies  at 
his  disposal,  and  so  I  doubted  whether  I  ought  to  ask 
for  one.  I  think  you  will  find  much  to  interest  you  in 
the  book.  I  can't  tell  you  how  I  value  it,  as  the  best 
product  of  a  mind  which  I  have  every  day  more  reason 
to  admire  and  love.  We  have  had  much  gratification 
in  the  expression  of  individual  opinion.  The  press  is 
very  favorable,  but  the  notices  are  for  the  most  part 
too  idiotic  to  give  us  much  pleasure,  except  in  a  pe- 
cuniary point  of  view.  I  am  going  out  to-day,  for  the 
first  time  for  nearly  a  fortnight. 

I  have  just  finished  a  loner   article  on   Heine  for  Letter  to 

J  Miss  bara 

the  Westminster  Review,  which  none  of  you  will  like.  He.m"j"' 

J  zgth  Nov. 

En  revanche,  Mr.  Lewes  has  written  one  on  "Lions  and  l8ss- 
Lion  Hunters,"  which  you  will  find  amusing. 

On  the  i2th  December  the  Belles-lettres  sec- 


280  Miscellaneous  Writing.       [RICHMOND, 

tion  for  the  January  number  of  the  Westminster  Re- 
view was  finished  and  sent  off,  and  the  next  entry 
in  the  Journal  is  dated  : 

journal,  Dec.  24,  1855. — For  the  last  ten  days  I  have  done  lit- 
tle, owing  to  headache  and  other  ailments.  Began  the 
"Antigone,"  read  Von  Bohlen  on  "Genesis,"  and  Swe- 
denborg.  Mr.  Chapman  wants  me  to  write  an  article  on 
"  Missions  and  Missionaries,"  for  the  April  number  of 
the  Westminster,  but  I  think  I  shall  not  have  it  ready 
till  the  July  number.  In  the  afternoon  I  set  out  on 
my  journey  to  see  my  sister,  and  arrived  at  her  house 
about  eight  o'clock,  finding  her  and  her  children  well. 
Dec.  29,  1855. — Returned  to  Richmond.  G.  away 
at  Vernon  Hill  (Arthur  Helps's),  having  gone  thither 
on  Wednesday. 

Dec.  30,  1855.— Read  the  "Shaving  of  Shagpat" 
(George  Meredith's). 

Dec.  31,  1855. — Wrote  a  review  of  "  Shagpat." 
journal,         jan.  X)  1856. — Read  Kingsley's  "Greek  Heroes," 

1850- 

and  began  a  review  of  Von  Bohlen. 

Jan.  5,  1856. — G.  came  home. 

Jan.  6,  1856. — Began  to  revise  Book  IV.  of  Spino- 
za's "Ethics,"  and  continued  this  work  through  the 
week,  being  able  to  work  but  slowly.  Finished  Kah- 
nis's  "  History  of  German  Protestantism." 

Jan.  1 6,  1856. — Received  a  charming  letter  from 
Barbara  Smith,  with    a   petition    to  Parliament   that 
women  may  have  a  right  to  their  earnings. 
Letter  to        j  believe  there  have  been  at  least  a  thousand  copies 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,    of  the  "  Goethe  "  sold,  which  is  a  wonderfully  good  sale 

iSthJan.  3  ° 

in  less  than  three  months  for  a  thirty-shilling  book. 
We  have  a  charming  collection  of  letters,  both  from 
remarkable  acquaintances  and  remarkable  non- ac- 
quaintances, expressing  enthusiastic  delight  in  the 


1856.]  The  "Saturday  Review."  281 

book — letters  all  the  more  delightful  because  they  areLe«erto 

Miss  San 
quite  spontaneous,  and  spring  from  a  generous  wish  to  Henneii, 

let  the  author  know  how  highly  the  writers  value  his  I8s6- 
work.     If  you  want  some  idle  reading,  get  the  "  Shav- 
ing of  Shagpat,"  which,  I  think,  you  will  say  deserves 
all  the  praise  I  gave  it. 

Feb.  19,  1856. — Since  the  6th  January  I  have  been  Journal, 

1856- 

occupied  with  Spinoza ;  and,  except  a  review  of  Gris- 
wold's  "  American  Poets,"  have  done  nothing  else  but 
translate  the  Fifth  Book  of  the  "  Ethics,"  and  revise 
the  whole  of  my  translation  from  the  beginning.  This 
evening  I  have  finished  my  revision. 

I  was  so  glad  to  have  a  little  news  of  you.     I  should  Better  to 

*  Miss  Sare 

like  to  hear  much  oftener,  but  our  days  are  so  accu-  He,nn^11: 

»  igth  Feb. 

rately  parcelled  out  among  regular  occupations  that  I  l8s6- 
rarely  manage  to  do  anything  not  included  in  the  pro- 
gramme ;  and,  without  reading  Mrs.  Barbauld  on  the 
"  Inconsistency  of  Human  Expectations,"  I  know  that 
receiving  letters  is  inconsistent  with  not  writing  any. 
Have  you  seen  any  numbers  of  the  Saturday  Review, 
a  new  journal,  on  which  "  all  the  talents  "  are  engaged  ? 
It  is  not  properly  a  newspaper,  but — what  its  title  ex- 
presses— a  political  and  literary  review.  We  are  de- 
lighting ourselves  with  Ruskin's  third  volume,  which 
contains  some  of  the  finest  writing  I  have  read  for  a 
long  time  (among  recent  books).  I  read  it  aloud  for 
an  hour  or  so  after  dinner ;  then  we  jump  to  the  old 
dramatists,  when  Mr.  Lewes  reads  to  me  as  long  as  his 
voice  will  hold  out,  and  after  this  we  wind  up  the  even- 
ing with  Rymer  Jones's  "  Animal  Kingdom,"  by  which 
I  get  a  confused  knowledge  of  branchiae,  and  such 
things — perhaps,  on  the  whole,  a  little  preferable  to 
total  ignorance.  These  are  our  nodes — without  cence 
for  the  present — occasionally  diversified  by  very  dra- 


282  Women's  Earnings.          [RICHMOND, 

Letterto    rnatic    singing  of  Figaro,  etc.,  which,   I   think,  must 
He""?u-    alarm  "  that  good  man,  the  clergyman."  who  sits  below 

1 9th  Feb.  t:>J 

I8s6.  us.  We  have  been  half  laughing,  half  indignant,  over 
Alison's  new  volume  of  his  "  History  of  Europe,"  in 
which  he  undertakes  to  give  an  account  of  German  lit- 
erature. 

Letterto        What  you  tell  me  of  Harriet  Martineau  interests  me 

Miss  Sara  . 

Henneii,  very  much.  I  feel  for  her  terrible  bodily  suffering, 
1856.  and  think  of  her  with  deep  respect  and  admiration. 
Whatever  may  have  been  her  mistakes  and  weaknesses, 
the  great  and  good  things  she  has  done  far  outweigh 
them ;  and  I  should  be  grieved  if  anything  in  her  me- 
moir should  cast  a  momentary  shadow  over  the  agree- 
able image  of  her  that  the  world  will  ultimately  keep 
in  its  memory.  I  wish  less  of  our  piety  were  spent  on 
imaginary  perfect  goodness,  and  more  given  to  real 
/^perfect  goodness. 
Letterto  I  am  Very  happy  for  you  to  keep  the  sheets,  and  to 

Miss  Sara  '         crj  J 

Henneii,  get  signatures  (for  the  Women's  Petition  that  they 
Feb.  1856.  should  have  legal  right  to  their  own  earnings).  Miss 
Barbara  Smith  writes  that  she  must  have  them  re- 
turned to  her  before  the  ist  of  March.  I  am  glad  you 
have  taken  up  the  cause,  for  I  do  think  that,  with 
proper  provisos  and  safeguards,  the  proposed  law 
would  help  to  raise  the  position  and  character  of  wom- 
en. It  is  one  round  of  a  long  ladder  stretching  far 
beyond  our  lives. 

During  March,  George  Eliot  wrote  only  the 
Belles-lettres  section  for  the  April  number  of  the 
Westminster,  having  resigned  the  subject  of  "  Mis- 
sions" to  Harriet  Martineau.  She  also  wrote  two 
articles  for  the  Saturday  Review,  and  two  for  the 
Leader.  And  there  are  the  following  letters  in 
March  to  the  Brays,  in  which  allusion  is  made  to 


1856.]  Spinoza  s  Ethics.  283 

their  leaving  the  old  home  at  Rosehill,  owing  to 
the  unsatisfactory  state  of  the  Coventry  business. 
We  are  flourishing  in  every  way  except  in  health.    Mr.  Letter  to 
Lewes's  head  is  still  infirm,  but  he  manages,  neverthe- Bray,  26th 

Mch.  1856. 

less,  to  do  twice  as  much  work  as  other  people.  I  am 
always  a  croaker,  you  know,  but  my  ailments  are  of  a 
small  kind,  their  chief  symptoms  being  a  muddled 
brain  ;  and,  as  my  pen  is  not  of  the  true  literary  order 
which  will  run  along  without  the  help  of  brains,  I  don't 
get  through  so  much  work  as  I  should  like.  By  the 
way,  when  the  Spinoza  comes  out,  be  so  good  as  not 
to  mention  my  name  in  connection  with  it.  I  partic- 
ularly wish  not  to  be  known  as  the  translator  of  the 
"Ethics,"  for  reasons  which  it  would  be  "too  tedious 
to  mention."  You  don't  know  what  a  severely  practi- 
cal person  I  am  become,  and  what  a  sharp  eye  I  have 
to  the  main  chance.  I  keep  the  purse,  and  dole  out 
sovereigns  with  all  the  pangs  of  a  miser.  In  fact,  if 
you  were  to  feel  my  bump  of  acquisitiveness,  I  dare 
say  you  would  find  it  in  a  state  of  inflammation,  like 
the  "  veneration  "  of  that  clergyman  to  whom  Mr.  Don- 
ovan said,  "  Sir,  you  have  recently  been  engaged  in 
prayer."  I  hope  you  recognized  your  own  wit  about) 
the  one  -  eyed  dissenters,  which  was  quoted  in  the 
Leader  some  time  ago.  You  always  said  no  one  did 
so  much  justice  to  your  jokes  as  I  did. 

My  mind  is  more  rebellious  than  yours,  and  I  can't  Letter  to 
help  being  saddened  by  the  idea  of  you  and  Cara  be- Bray,  3«t 

3  Mch.  1856. 

ing  in  any  other  home  than  the  dear  old  one.  But  I 
know  that  your  cheerful  courage  is  yet  stronger  in  deed 
than  in  word.  Will  not  business  or  pleasure  bring  you 
to  London  soon,  and  will  you  not  come  to  see  us  ?  We 
can  give  you  a  bed  —  not  a  sumptuous  one,  but  one 
which  you  will  perhaps  not  find  intolerable  for  a  night. 


284  Brays  Leaving  Roschili.       [RICHMOND, 

Letter  to    I  know  the  trip  up  the  Thames  is  charming,  and  we 
Hr.lv,  ust  should  like  to  do  it  with  you,  but  I  don't  think  we  can 

Mch.  1856.  J       ' 

manage  it  this  summer.  We  are  going  to  send  or  take 
the  boys  (Mr.  Lewes's  sons)  to  school  in  Germany  at 
midsummer,  and  are  at  present  uncertain  about  our 
arrangements.  If  we  can  send them,  we  shall  go  to  the 
coast  as  soon  as  the  warm  weather  comes,  and  remain 
there  for  three  months.  But  our  plans  are  not  yet 
crystallized. 
Letter  to  After  I  wrote  you  yesterday  morning  we  had  a  letter 

Charles  *          * 

Bray,  ist    from  Germany  which  has  made  Mr.  Lewes  incline  to 

April,  1 856. 

defer  sending  the  boys  thither  till  next  year.  But  he 
is  anxious  to  remove  them  from  their  present  school : 
and,  in  the  course  of  our  consultations  on  the  subject, 
we  thought  of  Mr.  John  Sibree  as  a  person  in  whom 
we  should  feel  confidence  as  to  the  moral  influence  he 
would  exercise  as  a  tutor.  The  risk  of  placing  chil- 
dren with  entire  strangers  is  terrible.  So  I  tease  you 
with  another  letter  to  ask  you  if  Mr.  J.  Sibree  contin- 
ues in  the  same  position  as  formerly,  and  if  he  is  still 
anxious  to  obtain  pupils.  What  a  delicious  day  !  We 
are  going  to  have  a  holiday  at  the  Zoological  Gardens. 
Letter  to  Thank  you  for  taking  the  trouble  to  write  me  a  full 

Miss  Sara  *  ~ 

Henneii,    account  of  matters  so  interesting  to  me.     I  hope  you 

7th  April,  ™ 

1856.  WH1  be  able  thoroughly  to  enjoy  this  last  precious  sum- 
mer on  the  pretty  lawn,  where  it  is  one  of  my  pleasures 
on  sunshiny  days  to  think  of  you  all  strolling  about  or 
seated  on  the  Bearskin.  We  are  very  thankful  for  the 
Hofwyl  circular,  and  have  almost  decided  to  send  the 
two  eldest  boys  there.  But  it  is  necessary  to  weigh  all 
things  carefully  before  coming  to  a  determination  ;  as, 
not  being  either  swindlers  or  philanthropists,  we  don't 
like  to  incur  obligations  which  there  is  not  a  reasona- 
ble certainty  of  our  being  able  to  meet.  I  am  much 


1856.]  Journey  to  Ilfracombe.  285 

obliged  to  Mr.  Bray,  too,  for  sending  Mr.  John  Sibree's  Letter  to 
, ,     T  ,111  -i  Miss  Sara 

letter.     Mr.  Lewes  had  already  received  an   answer  Henneii, 

,.,..,.  ...  ?th  April, 

from  him  declining  his  proposition,  but  we  were  in- 1856. 
terested  to  read  his  very  characteristic  letter  to  his 
sister,  which  proved  to  Mr.  Lewes  that  I  had  given 
him  a  correct  description  of  the  man. 

The  next  few  weeks  are,  perhaps,  the  most  sig- 
nally important  and  interesting  of  all  in  George 
Eliot's  development.  There  are  unmistakable  signs 
of  the  rising  of  the  sap  of  creative  production. 

In  the  middle  of  April  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer, 
who  had  been  abroad  for  some  time,  returned  to 
England,  and  dined  with  them  at  Park  Shot  on  the 
1 5th,  and  on  the  i8th  they  went  with  him  to  Syden- 
ham.  On  the  22d  April  George  Eliot  began  her 
article  on  Young;  and  on  the  agth  she  began  to 
read  Riehl's  book,1  on  which  she  was  to  write  an- 
other article  for  the  Westminster.  On  the  8th  of  May 
they  set  off  for  Ilfracombe,  and  we  have  the  follow- 
ing "  recollections  "  of  that  place  : 

It  was  a  cold,  unfriendly  day — the  8th  of  May — on  Ilfracombe, 
which  we  set  out  for  Ilfracombe  with  our  hamper  of  tkms,  1856. 
glass  jars,  which  we  rrreant  for  our  seaside  vivarium. 
We  had  to  get  down  at  Windsor,  and  were  not  sorry 
that  the  interval  was  long  enough  to  let  us  walk  round 
the  castle,  which  I  had  never  seen  before  except  from 
a  distance.  The  famous  "  slopes,"  the  avenues  in  the 
park,  and  the  distant  landscape,  looked  very  lovely  in 
the  fresh  and  delicate  greens  of  spring;  and  the  castle 
is  surely  the  most  delightful  royal  residence  in  the 
world.  We  took  our  places  from  Windsor  all  the  way 
to  Exeter ;  and  at  Bristol,  where  we  had  to  wait  three 

1  «  Land  und  Volk." 


286  Ilfracombe.  [ILFRACOMBE, 

iifracombe,  hours,  the  misery  of  my  terrible  headache  was  miti- 

Kecollec-  J 

lions,  May,  gated  by  the  interest  we  felt  in  seeing  the  grand  old 

Io&6. 

Church  of  St.  Mary  RedclifFe,  forever  associated  with 
the  memory  of  Chatterton. 

"  It  stands,  the  maestrie  of  a  human  hand, 
The  pride  of  Bristowe  and  the  western  land." 

It  was  cheering,  the  next  morning  after  our  arrival  at 
Ilfracombe,  to  get  up  with  a  head  rather  less  aching, 
and  to  walk  up  and  down  the  little  garden  of  Runny- 
mede  Villa  in  the  bright  sunshine.  I  had  a  great  deal 
of  work  before  me — the  writing  of  an  article  on  Riehl's 
book,  which  I  had  not  half  read,  as  well  as  the  article 
on  Belles-lettres ;  but  my  head  was  still  dizzy,  and 
it  seemed  impossible  to  sit  down  to  writing  at  once  in 
these  new  scenes,  so  we  determined  to  spend  the  day 
in  explorations. 

From  our  windows  we  had  a  view  of  the  higher 
part  of  the  town,  and  generally  it  looked  uninteresting 
enough;  but  what  is  it  that  light  cannot  transfigure  into 
beauty?  One  evening,  after  a  shower,  as  the  sun  was 
setting  over  the  sea  behind  us,  some  peculiar  arrange- 
ment of  clouds  threw  a  delicious  evening  light  on  the 
irregular  cluster  of  houses,  and  merged  the  ugliness  of 
their  forms  in  an  exquisite  flood  of  color — as  a  stupid 
person  is  made  glorious  by  a  noble  deed.  A  perfect 
rainbow  arched  over  the  picture.  From  one  end  of 
the  Capstone  we  have  an  admirable  bit  for  a  picture. 
In  the  background  rises  old  Helesborough,  jutting  out 
far  into  the  sea — rugged  and  rocky  as  it  fronts  the 
waves,  green  and  accessible  landward;  in  front  of  this 
stands  Lantern  Hill,  a  picturesque  mass  of  green  and 
gray,  surmounted  by  an  old  bit  of  building  that  looks 
as  if  it  were  the  habitation  of  some  mollusk  that  had 
secreted  its  shell  from  the  material  -of  the  rock ;  and 


1856.]  Description  of  Scenery.  287 

quite  in  the  foreground,  contrasting  finely  in  color  with 

0  Recollec- 

the  rest,  are  some  lower  perpendicular  rocks  of  dark-  t"°"s.  May, 
brown  tints,  patched  here  and  there  with  vivid  green. 
In  hilly  districts,  where  houses  and  clusters  of  houses 
look  so  tiny  against  the  huge  limbs  of  mother  earth, 
one  cannot  help  thinking  of  man  as  a  parasitic  ani- 
mal— an  epizoan  making  his  abode  in  the  skin  of  the 
planetary  organism.  In  a  flat  country,  a  house  or  a 
town  looks  imposing;  there  is  nothing  to  rival  it  in 
height,  and  we  may  imagine  the  earth  a  mere  pedestal 
for  us.  But  when  one  sees  a  house  stuck  on  the  side 
of  a  great  hill,  and,  still  more,  a  number  of  houses,  look- 
ing like  a  few  barnacles,  clustered  on  the  side  of  a  great 
rock,  we  begin  to  think  of  the  strong  family  likeness 
between  ourselves  and  all  other  building,  burrowing, 
house-appropriating,  and  shell-secreting  animals.  The 
difference  between  a  man  with  his  house  and  a  mollusk 
with  its  shell  lies  in  the  number  of  steps  or  phenomena 
interposed  between  the  fact  of  individual  existence 
and  the  completion  of  the  building.  Whatever  other 
advantages  we  may  have  over  mollusks  and  insects  in 
our  habitations,  it  is  clear  that  their  architecture  has 
the  advantage  of  ours  in  beauty — at  least,  considered 
as  the  architecture  of  the  species.  Look  at  man  in  the 
light  of  a  shell-fish,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  .his 
shell  is  generally  ugly;  and  it  is  only  after  a  great 
many  more  "  steps  or  phenomena "  that  he  secretes 
here  and  there  a  wonderful  shell  in  the  shape  of  a 
temple  or  a  palace. 

On  our  first  zoophyte  hunt  it  was  characteristic  of 
the  wide  difference  there  is  between  having  eyes  and 
seeing,  that  in  this  region  of  sea-anemones,  where  the 
Mesembryanthemum  especially  is  as  plenty  as  black- 
berries, we  climbed  about  for  two  hours  without  seeing 


288  Naturalistic  Experiences.  [ILFRACOMBE, 

be, one  anemone,  and  went  in  again  with  scarcely  anything 
tions,  May,  but  a  few  stones  and  weeds  to  put  into  our  jars.     On 

June,  1856.  J 

our  next  hunt,  however,  after  we  had  been  out  some 
time,  G.  exclaimed,  "  I  see  an  anemone !"  and  we 
were  immensely  excited  by  the  discovery  of  this  little 
red  Mesembryanthemum,  which  we  afterwards  dis- 
dained to  gather,  as  much  as  if  it  had  been  a  nettle. 
It  was  a  crescendo  of  delight  when  we  found  a  "  straw- 
berry," and  a  fortissimo  when  I,  for  the  first  time,  saw 
the  pale,  fawn-colored  tentacles  of  an  Anthea  cereus 
viciously  waving  like  little  serpents  in  a  low-tide  pool. 
But  not  a  polype  for  a  long,  long  while  could  even  G. 
detect,  after  all  his  reading;  so  necessary  is  it  for  the 
eye  to  be  educated  by  objects  as  well  as  ideas.  Every 
day  I  gleaned  some  little  bit  of  naturalistic  experience, 
either  through  G.'s  calling  on  me  to  look  through  the 
microscope,  or  from  hunting  on  the  rocks;  and  this  in 
spite  of  my  preoccupation  with  my  article,  which  I 
worked  at  considerably  a  contre-cceur,  despairing  of  it 
ever  being  worth  anything.  When  at  last,  by  the  i7th 
of  June,  both  my  articles  were  despatched,  I  felt  de- 
lightfully at  liberty,  and  determined  to  pay  some  at- 
tention to  seaweeds,  which  I  had  never  seen  in  such 
beauty  as  at  Ilfracombe.  For  hitherto  I  had  been 
chiefly  on  chalky  and  sandy  shores,  where  there  were 
no  rock-pools  to  show  off  the  lovely  colors  and  forms 
of  the  algae.  There  are  tide-pools  to  be  seen  almost 
at  every  other  step  on  the  shore  at  Ilfracombe  ;  and  I 
shall  never  forget  their  appearance  when  we  first 
arrived  there.  The  Corallina  officinalis  was  then  in  its 
greatest  perfection,  and  with  its  purple-pink  fronds 
threw  into  relief  the  dark  olive  fronds  of  the  Laminaria? 
on  one  side,  and  the  vivid  green  of  the  Ulva  and  En- 
teromorpha  on  the  other.  After  we  had  been  there  a 


1856.1  Zoological  Expeditions.  289 

few  weeks  the  Corallina  was  faded:  and  I  noticed  the  nfracombe, 

Recollec- 

Mesagloia  vermicularis  and  the  M.  virescens.  which  look  tions,  May, 

June,  1856. 

very  lovely  in  the  water,  from  the  white  cilia,  which 
make  the  most  delicate  fringe  to  their  yellow-brown, 
whip-like  fronds,  and  some  of  the  common  Polysi- 
phoniae.  These  tide-pools  made  me  quite  in  love  with 
seaweeds,  so  I  took  up  Landsborough's  book  and  tried 
to  get  a  little  more  light  on  their  structure  and  his- 
tory. 

Our  zoological  expeditions  alternated  with  delicious 
inland  walks.  I  think  the  country  looked  its  best 
when  we  arrived.  It  was  just  that  moment  in  spring 
when  the  leaves  are  in  full  leaf,  but  still  keep  their 
delicate  varieties  of  coloring,  and  that  transparency 
which  belongs  only  to  this  season.  And  the  furze  was 
in  all  its  golden  glory!  It  was  almost  like  the  fading 
away  of  the  evening  red,  when  the  furze  blossoms  died 
off  from  the  hills,  and  the  only  contrast  left  was  that 
of  the  marly  soil  with  the  green  crops  and  woods.  The 
primroses  were  the  contemporaries  of  the  furze,  and 
sprinkled  the  sides  of  the  hills  with  their  pale  stars  al- 
most as  plentifully  as  daisies  or  buttercups  elsewhere. 
But  the  great  charm  of  all  Devonshire  lanes  is  the 
springs  that  you  detect  gurgling  in  shady  recesses, 
covered  with  liverwort,  with  here  and  there  waving  tufts 
of  fern  and  other  broad-leaved  plants  that  love  obscuri- 
ty and  moisture. 

We  seemed  to  make  less  of  our  evenings  at  Ilfra- 
combe  than  we  have  ever  done  elsewhere.  We  used 
often  to  be  tired  with  our  hunting  or  walking  ;  and  we 
were  reading  books  which  did  not  make  us  take  them 
up  very  eagerly  —  Gosse's  "Rambles  on  the  Devon- 
shire Coast,"  for  example  ;  Trench's  "  Calderon,"  and 
other  volumes,  taken  up  in  a  desultory  way.  One  bit 


290  Rn>.  Mr.  TugivclL—  Walks.  [ILFRACOMBE, 

of  reading  we  had  there,  however,  which  interested  me 

Recollec- 
tions, May,  deeply.     It  was  Masson's  "  Life  of  Chatterton."  which 

June,  1856. 

happily  linked  itself  with  the  impressions  I  had  re- 
ceived from  the  sight  of  the  old  church  at  Bristol. 

Mr.  Tugwell's  (the  curate)  acquaintance  was  a  real 
acquisition  to  us,  not  only  because  he  was  a  companion 
and  helper  in  zoological  pursuits,  but  because  to  know 
him  was  to  know  of  another  sweet  nature  in  the  world. 
It  is  always  good  to  know,  if  only  in  passing,  a  charm- 
ing human  being ;  it  refreshes  one  like  flowers  and 
woods  and  clear  brooks.  One  Sunday  evening  we 
walked  up  to  his  pretty  house  to  carry  back  some 
proofs  of  his,  and  he  induced  us  to  go  in  and  have 
coffee  with  him.  He  played  on  his  harmonium,  and 
we  chatted  pleasantly.  The  last  evening  of  our  stay 
at  Ilfracombe  he  came  to  see  us  in  Mrs.  Webster's 
drawing-room,  and  we  had  music  till  nearly  eleven 
o'clock — a  pleasant  recollection  ! 

We  only  twice  took  the  walk  beyond  Watermouth 
towards  Berrynarbor.  The  road  lies  through  what  are 
called  the  "  Meadows,"  which  look  like  a  magnificent 
park.  A  stream,  fringed  with  wild-flowers  and  willows, 
runs  along  the  valley,  two  or  three  yards  from  the  side 
of  the  road.  This  stream  is  clear  as  crystal,  and  about 
every  twenty  yards  it  falls  over  a  little  artificial  preci- 
pice of  stones.  The  long  grass  was  waving  in  all  the 
glory  of  June,  before  the  mower  has  come  to  make  it 
suffer  a  "  love  change  "  from  beauties  into  sweet  odors; 
and  the  slopes  on  each  side  of  us  were  crowned  or 
clothed  with  fine  trees.  The  last  time  we  went  through 
these  meadows  was  on  our  last  day  at  Ilfracombe. 
Such  sunlight  and  such  deep  peace  on  the  hills  and  by 
the  stream !  Coming  back,  we  rested  on  a  gate  under 
the  trees,  and  a  blind  man  came  up  to  rest  also.  He 


1856.]  ''Braided  Streamlets."  291 

told  us,  in  his  slow  way,  what  a  fine,  "  healthy  spot  "this  nfracombe, 

J  J  Recollec- 

was — yes,  a  very  healthy  spot — a  healthy  spot.     And  t'op5-  June> 
then  we  went  on  our  way,  and  saw  his  face  no  more. 

I  have  talked  of  the  Ilfracombe  lanes  without  de- 
scribing them,  for  to  describe  them  one  ought  to  know 
the  names  of  all  the  lovely  wild-flowers  that  cluster 
on  their  banks.  Almost  every  yard  of  these  banks  is 
a  "  Hunt "  picture — a  delicious  crowding  of  mosses 
and  delicate  trefoil  and  wild  strawberries  and  ferns 
great  and  small.  But  the  crowning  beauty  of  the  lanes 
is  the  springs  that  gush  out  in  little  recesses  by  the 
side  of  the  road — recesses  glossy  with  liverwort  and 
feathery  with  fern.  Sometimes  you  have  the  spring 
when  it  has  grown  into  a  brook,  either  rushing  down  a 
miniature  cataract  by  the  lane-side,  or  flowing  gently 
as  a  "  braided  streamlet "  across  your  path.  I  never 
before  longed  so  much  to  know  the  names  of  things  as 
during  this  visit  to  Ilfracombe.  The  desire  is  part  of 
the  tendency  that  is  now  constantly  growing  in  me  to 
escape  from  all  vagueness  and  inaccuracy  into  the  day- 
light of  distinct,  vivid  ideas.  The  mere  fact  of  naming 
an  object  tends  to  give  definiteness  to  our  conception 
of  it.  We  have  then  a  sign  which  at  once  calls  up  in 
our  minds  the  distinctive  qualities  which  mark  out  for 
us  that  particular  object  from  all  others. 

We  ascended  the  Tors  only  twice ;  for  a  tax  of  $d. 
per  head  was  demanded  on  this  luxury,  and  we  could 
not  afford  a  sixpenny  walk  very  frequently  :  yet  the  view 
is  perhaps  the  very  finest  to  be  had  at  Ilfracombe. 
Bay  behind  bay,  fringed  with  foam,  and  promontory 
behind  promontory,  each  with  its  peculiar  shades  of 
purple  light — the  sweep  of  the  Welsh  coast  faintly  visi- 
ble in  the  distance,  and  the  endless  expanse  of  sear 
flecked  with  ships,  stretching  on  our  left. 


i 


292  Leave  for  Tcnby.  [ILFRACOMBE, 

iifracombe,     One  evening  we  went  down  to  the  shore  through 

Kecollec- 

tionsjune,  the  "  Tunnels "  to  see  the  sunset.  Standing  in  the 
"  Ladies'  Cove,"  we  had  before  us  the  sharp  fragments 
of  rock  jutting  out  of  the  waves  and  standing  black 
against  the  orange  and  crimson  sky.  How  lovely  to 
look  into  that  brilliant  distance  and  see  the  ship  on 
the  horizon  seeming  to  sail  away  from  the  cold  and 
dim  world  behind  it  right  into  the  golden  glory !  I 
have  always  that  sort  of  feeling  when  I  look  at  sunset ; 
it  always  seems  to  me  that  there  in  the  West  lies  a 
land  of  light  and  warmth  and  love. 

On  the  26th  of  June  we  said  good-bye  to  Iifracombe. 
The  sight  of  the  cockle-women  at  Swansea,  where  we 
had  to  wait,  would  make  a  fine  subject  for  a  painter. 
One  of  them  was  the  grandest  woman  I  ever  saw — six 
feet  high,  carrying  herself  like  a  Greek  warrior,  and 
treacling  the  earth  with  unconscious  majesty.  Her 
face  was  weather-beaten  and  wizened,  but  her  eyes 
were  bright  and  piercing,  and  the  lines  of  her  face, 
with  its  high  cheek-bones,  strong  and  characteristic. 
The  guard  at  the  railway  station  told  us  that  one  of 
the  porters  had  been  insolent  the  other  day  to  a  coc- 
kle-woman, and  that  she  immediately  pitched  him  off 
the  platform  into  the  road  below ! 

the  Brat0s       When  we  arrived  here  I  had  not  even  read  a  great 
6th  June,   ^OQ]-  on  \vhich  I  had  engaged  to  write  a  long  article 

1050.  ° 

by  the  beginning  of  this  month  ;  so  that  between  work 
and  zoology  and  bodily  ailments  my  time  has  been  full 
to  overflowing.  We  are  enchanted  with  Iifracombe.  I 
really  think  it  is  the  loveliest  sea-place  I  ever  saw,  from 
the  combination  of  fine  rocky  coast  with  exquisite  in- 
land scenery.  But  it  would  not  do  for  any  one  who 
can't  climb  rocks  and  mount  perpetual  hills;  for  the 
peculiarity  of  this  country  is,  that  it  is  all  hill  and  no 


1856.]  Zoological  Delights.  293 

valley.     You  have  no  sooner  got  to  the  foot  of  one  Letter  to 

J  the  Brays, 

hill  than  you  begin  to  mount  another.     You  would 6th  June, 

1856. 

laugh  to  see  our  room  decked  with  yellow  pie-dishes, 
a  foot-fan,  glass  jars  and  phials,  all  full  of  zoophytes, 
or  mollusks,  or  anellides — and,  still  more,  to  see  the 
eager  interest  with  which  we  rush  to  our  "  preserves  " 
in  the  morning  to  see  if  there  has  been  any  mortality 
among  them  in  the  night.  We  have  made  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  charming  little  zoological  curate  here,  who 
is  a  delightful  companion  on  expeditions,  and  is  most 
good-natured  in  lending  and  giving  apparatus  and 
"  critturs  "  of  all  sorts.  Mr.  Pigott '  is  coming  here  with 
his  yacht  at  the  end  of  June,  and  we  hope  then  to  go 
to  Clovelly — Kingsley's  Clovelly — and  perhaps  other 
places  on  the  coast  that  we  can't  reach  on  foot.  After 
this  we  mean  to  migrate  to  Tenby,  for  the  sake  of  mak- 
ing acquaintance  with  its  mollusks  and  medusae. 

I  received  your  kind  letter  only  yesterday,  but  I  write  Letter  to 

;  •"  Mrs.  Peter 

a  few  words  in  answer  at  once,  lest,  as  it  so  often  hap-  Taylor,  sth 

*   June,  1856. 

pens,  delay  should  beget  delay. 

It  is  never  too  late  to  write  generous  words,  and 
although  circumstances  are  not  likely  to  allow  of  our 
acquiring  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  each  other 
from  personal  intercourse,  it  will  always  be  a  pleasant 
thought  to  me  that  you  have  remembered  me  kindly, 
and  interpreted  me  nobly.  You  are  one  of  the  mi- 
nority who  know  how  to  "use  their  imagination  in  the 
service  of  charity." 

I  have  suffered  so  much  from  misunderstanding  cre- 
ated by  letters,  even  to  old  friends,  that  I  never  write 
on  private  personal  matters,  unless  it  be  a  rigorous 
duty  or  necessity  to  do  so.  Some  little  phrase  or  al- 

i  Mr.Edward  Smyth  Pigott,  who  remained  to  the  end  of  their  lives 
a  very  close  and  much  valued  friend  of  Mr.  Lewes  and  George  Eliot. 


294  Life  at  Tenby.  [TENBY, 

Letter  to    lusion  is  misinterpreted,  and  on  this  false  basis  a  great 

Mrs.  Peter  ' 

Taylor,  sth  fabric  of  misconception  is  reared,  which  even  explana- 

June,  1856. 

tory  conversations  will  not  remove.     Life  is  too  pre- 
cious to  be  spent  in  this  weaving  and  unweaving  of  false 
impressions,  and  it  is  better  to  live  quietly  on  under 
some  degree  of  misrepresentation  than  to  attempt  to 
remove  it  by  the  uncertain  process  of  letter-writing. 
Lctterto        Yes,  indeed,  I  do  remember  old  Tenby  days,  and 
Henneii,    had  set  my  heart  on  being   in  the  very  same  house 

zgth  June, 

1856.  again  ;  but,  alas  !  it  had  just  been  let.  It  is  immense- 
ly smartened  up,  like  the  place  generally,  since  those 
old  times,  and  is  proportionately  less  desirable  for 
quiet  people  who  have  no  flounces  and  do  not  subscribe 
to  new  churches.  Tenby  looks  insignificant  in  pictu- 
resqueness  after  Ilfracombe  ;  but  the  two  objects  that 
drew  us  hither,  zoology  and  health,  will  flourish  none 
the  worse  for  the  absence  of  tall  precipices  and  many- 
tinted  rocks.  The  air  is  delicious — soft,  but  not  sultry 
— and  the  sands  and  bathing  such  as  are  to  be  found 
nowhere  else.  St.  Catherine's  Rock,  with  its  caverns, 
is  our  paradise.  We  go  there  with  baskets,  hammers 
and  chisels,  and  jars  and  phials,  and  come  home  laden 
with  spoils.  Altogether,  we  are  contented  to  have  been 
driven  away  from  Ilfracombe  by  the  cold  wind,  since  a 
new  place  is  new  experience,  and  Mr.  Lewes  has  never 
been  here  before.  To  me  there  is  the  additional  pleas- 
ure— half  melancholy — of  recalling  all  the  old  impres- 
sions and  comparing  them  with  the  new.  I  under- 
stand your  wish  to  have  as  much  of  Rosehill  as  pos- 
sible this  year,  and  I  am  so  glad  that  you  will  associate 
rfl.  visit  from  Herbert  Spencer  with  this  last  summer.  I 
suppose  he  is  with  you  now.  If  so,  give  him  my  very 
evil  regards,  and  tell  him  that  because  he  has  not  writ- 
ten to  us  we  will  diligently  not  tell  him  a  great  many 


1856.]  Miss  Barbara  Smith's  Visit.  295 

things  he  would  have  liked  to  know.     We  have  a  pro-  Better  to 

r         Miss  Sara 

ject  of  going  into  St.  Catherine's  caverns  with  lanterns.  Henneii, 

J  '  2gth  June, 

some  night  when  the  tide  is  low,  about  eleven,  for  '856. 
the  sake  of  seeing  the  zoophytes  preparing  for  their 
midnight  revels.  The  Actiniae,  like  other  belles,  put 
on  their  best  faces  on  such  occasions.  Two  things 
we  have  lost  by  leaving  Ilfracombe  for  which  we  have 
no  compensation — the  little  zoological  curate,  Mr.  Tug- 
well,  who  is  really  one  of  the  best  specimens  of  the 
clergyman  species  I  have  seen  ;  and  the  pleasure  of 
having  Miss  Barbara  Smith  there  for  a  week,  sketching 
the  rocks,  and  putting  our  love  of  them  into  the  tangi- 
ble form  of  a  picture.  We  are  looking  out  now  for  Mr. 
Pigott  in  his  yacht ;  and  his  amiable  face  will  make  an 
agreeable  variety  on  the  sands.  I  thought  "  Walden  "  * 
(you  mean  "  Life  in  the  Woods,"  don't  you  ?)  a  charm- 
ing book,  from  its  freshness  and  sincerity  as  well  as 
for  its  bits  of  description.  It  is  pleasant  to  think  that 
Harriet  Martineau  can  make  so  much  of  her  last  days. 
Her  energy  and  her  habit  of  useful  work  are  admira- 
ble. 

During  the  stay  at  Ilfracombe  and  Tenby  not 
much  literary  work  was  done,  except  the  articles 
on  Young  and  on  Riehl's  book.  There  was  a 
notice  of  Masson's  Essays  and  the  Belles-lettres 
section  for  the  July  number  of  the  Westminster,  and 
a  review  for  the  Leader.  There  is  mention,  too, 
of  the  reading  of  Beaumarchais'  "  Memoirs,"  Milne 
Edwards's  "  Zoology,"  Harvey's  sea-side  book,  and 
"  Coriolanus,"  and  then  comes  this  significant  sen- 
tence in  her  Journal : 

jfuly  20,  1856. — The  fortnight  has  slipped  away  with- Journal, 

1856. 

»  By  Thoreau. 


296       First  Mention  of  Fiction-writing.     [TENBY, 
journal,     out  my  being  able  to  show  much  result  for  it.     I  have 

1856.  ' 

written  a  review  of  the  "  Lover's  Seat,"  and  jotted  down 
some  recollections  of  Ilfracombe ;  besides  these  trifles, 
and  the  introduction  to  an  article  already  written,  I 
have  done  no  visible  work.  But  I  have  absorbed  many 
ideas  and  much  bodily  strength;  indeed,  I  do  not  re- 
member ever  feeling  so  strong  in  mind  and  body  as  I 
feel  at  this  moment.  On  Saturday,  the  1 2th,  Barbara 
Smith  arrived,  and  stayed  here  till  Wednesday  morn- 
ing. We  enjoyed  her  society  very  much,  but  were 
deeply  touched  to  see  that  three  years  had  made  her 
so  much  older  and  sadder.  Her  activity  for  great  ob- 
jects is  admirable;  and  contact  with  her  is  a  fresh  in- 
spiration to  work  while  it  is  day.  We  have  now  taken 
up  Quatrefages  again.  The  "  Memoirs "  of  Beau- 
marchais  yielded  me  little  fruit.  Mr.  Chapman  invites 
me  to  contribute  to  the  Westminster  for  this  quarter. 
I  am  anxious  to  begin  my  fiction-writing,  and  so  am 
not  inclined  to  undertake  an  article  that  will  give  me 
much  trouble,  but,  at  all  events,  I  will  finish  my  article 
on  Young. 

July  21. — We  had  a  delightful  walk  on  the  north 

sands,  and  hunted  with  success.     A  sunny,  happy  day. 

Letterto        Glad  to  hear  at  last  some  news  of  your  Essay — 

Miss  Sara  •  J 

Henneii,    hoping  to  hear  more  and  better  by  and  by.     I  didn't 

29th  July,  *  • 

'856-  like  to  think  that  your  labor  would  be  thrown  away, 
except  so  far  as  it  must  do  good  to  yourself  by  clear- 
ing up  your  ideas.  Not  that  your  ideas  were  muddy, 
but  the  last  degree  of  clearness  can  only  come  by  writ- 
ing. Mr.  Pigott  is  with  us  just  now,  and  we  are  medi- 
tating a  nocturnal  visit  to  St.  Catherine's  caves  with 
him.  Our  visit  to  Tenby  has  been  very  useful  zoologi- 
cally, but  we  are  not  otherwise  greatly  in  love  with  the 
place.  It  seems  tame  and  vulgar  after  Ilfracombe. 


1856.]  Return  to  Richmond.  297 

Thank  you  for  your  kind  note,1  so  like  yourself.  Letter  to 

•*  *  Charles 

Such  things  encourage  me,  and  help  me  to  do  better.  Bray,  6th 
I  never  think  what  I  write  is  good  for  anything  till 
other  people  tell  me  so,  and  even  then  it  always  seems 
to  me  as  if  I  should  never  write  anything  else  worth 
reading.  Ah,  how  much  good  we  may  do  each  other 
by  a  few  friendly  words,  and  the  opportunities  for  them 
are  so  much  more  frequent  than  for  friendly  deeds  ! 
We  want  people  to  feel  with  us  more  than  to  act  for 
us.  Mr.  Lewes  sends  his  kind  regards  to  you.  He, 
too,  was  very  pleased  with  your  letter,  for  he  cares 
more  about  getting  approbation  for  me  than  for  him- 
self. He  can  do  very  well  without  it. 

On  the  8th  August  they  left  Tenby,  and  on  Qth 
arrived  at  Richmond  "  with  terrible  headache,  but 
enjoyed  the  sense  of  being  'at  home'  again."  On 
the  i8th,  "  walked  in  Kew  Park,  and  talked  with 
G.  of  my  novel.  Finished  '  Cesar  Birotteau '  aloud." 
On  the  25th  August  Mr.  Lewes  set  off  for  Hofwyl, 
near  Berne,  taking  his  two  eldest  boys,  Charles  and 
Thornton,  to  place  them  at  school  there.  He  re- 
turned on  4th  September,  and  in  his  absence  George 
Eliot  had  been  busy  with  her  article  on  "  Silly 
Novels  by  Lady  Novelists."  This  was  finished  on 
the  1 2th  September,  and  on  the  igth  she  sent  off 
the  Belles-lettres  section  for  the  October  number 
of  the  Westminster. 

We  have  now  arrived  at  the  period  of  the  new 
birth,  and,  fortunately,  in  the  following  memoran- 
dum, we  have  George  Eliot's  own  words  as  to  how 
it  came  about : 

1  About  the  article  on  Riehl's  book,  "  The  Natural  History  of 
German  Life." 

13* 


298  First  Novel.  [RICHMOND, 

Howl       September,  1856,  made  a  new  era  in  my  life,  for  it  was 
write         then  I  began  to  write  fiction.     It  had  always  been  a 

fiction.  ' 

vague  dream  of  mine  that  some  time  or  other  I  might 
write  a  novel;  and  my  shadowy  conception  of  what 
the  novel  was  to  be,  varied,  of  course,  from  one  epoch 
of  my  life  to  another.  But  I  never  went  further  tow- 
ards the  actual  writing  of  the  novel  than  an  introduc- 
tory chapter  describing  a  Staffordshire  village  and  the 
life  of  the  neighboring  farm-houses ;  and  as  the  years 
passed  on  I  lost  any  hope  that  I  should  ever  be  able 
to  write  a  novel,  just'  as  I  desponded  about  everything 
else  in  my  future  life.  I  always  thought  I  was  deficient 
in  dramatic  power,  both  of  construction  and  dialogue, 
but  I  felt  I  should  be  at  my  ease  in  the  descriptive 
parts  of  a  novel.  My  "  introductory  chapter "  was 
pure  description,  though  there  were  good  materials  in 
it  for  dramatic  presentation.  It  happened  to  be  among 
the  papers  I  had  with  me  in  Germany,  and  one  even- 
ing at  Berlin  something  led  me  to  read  it  to  George. 
He  was  struck  with  it  as  a  bit  of  concrete  description, 
and  it  suggested  to  him  the  possibility  of  my  being 
able  to  write  a  novel,  though  he  distrusted  —  indeed, 
disbelieved  in — my  possession  of  any  dramatic  power. 
Still,  he  began  to  think  that  I  might  as  well  try  some 
time  what  I  could  do  in  fiction,  and  by  and  by,  when 
we  came  back  to  England,  and  I  had  greater  success 
than  he  ever  expected  in  other  kinds  of  writing,  his 
impression  that  it  was  worth  while  to  see  how  far  my 
mental  power  would  go  towards  the  production  of  a 
novel,  was  strengthened.  He  began  to  say  very  posi- 
tively, "  You  must  try  and  write  a  story,"  and  when 
we  were  at  Tenby  he  urged  me  to  begin  at  once.  I 
deferred  it,  however,  after  my  usual  fashion  with  work 
that  does  not  present  itself  as  an  absolute  duty.  But 


1856.]  Title  of  First  Story.  299 

one  morning,  as  I  was  thinking  what  should  be  the  HOW  i 

came  to 

subject  of  my  first  story,  my  thoughts  merged  them-  write 

fiction. 

selves  into  a  dreamy  doze,  and  I  imagined  myself  writ- 
ing a  story,  of  which  the  title  was  "The  Sad  Fortunes 
of  the  Reverend  Amos  Barton."  I  was  soon  wide 
awake  again  and  told  G.  He  said,  "  Oh,  what  a  capi- 
tal title  !"  and  from  that  time  I  had  settled  in  my  mind 
that  this  should  be  my  first  story.  George  used  to 
say, "  It  may  be  a  failure — it  may  be  that  you  are  un- 
able to  write  fiction.  Or,  perhaps,  it  may  be  just  good 
enough  to  warrant  your  trying  again."  Again,  ".You 
may  write  a  chef-fF&trore  at  once — there's  no  telling." 
But  his  prevalent  impression  was,  that  though  I  could 
hardly  write  a  poor  novel,  my  effort  would  want  the 
highest  quality  of  fiction — dramatic  presentation.  He 
used  to  say,  "  You  have  wit,  description,  and  philoso- 
phy— those  go  a  good  way  towards  the  production  of 
a  novel.  It  is  worth  while  for  you  to  try  the  experi- 
ment." 

We  determined  that  if  my  story  turned  out  good 
enough  we  would  send  it  to  Blackwood ;  but  G.  thought 
the  more  probable  result  was  that  I  should  have  to  lay 
it  aside  and  try  again. 

But  when  we  returned  to  Richmond  I  had  to  write 
my  article  on  "  Silly  Novels,"  and  my  review  of  Con- 
temporary Literature  for  the  Westminster,  so  that  I  did 
not  begin  my  story  till  September  22.  After  I  had  be- 
gun it,  as  we  were  walking  in  the  park,  I  mentioned  to 
G.  that  I  had  thought  of  the  plan  of  writing  a  series  of 
stories,  containing  sketches  drawn  from  my  own  ob- 
servation of  the  clergy,  and  calling  them  "  Scenes  from 
Clerical  Life,"  opening  with  "  Amos  Barton."  He  at 
once  accepted  the  notion  as  a  good  one — fresh  and 
striking ;  and  about  a  week  afterwards,  when  I  read 


Howl 
came  to 
write 
fiction. 


Letter 
from  G.  H. 
Lewes,  to 
John 
Black- 
wood,  6th 
Nov.  1856. 


I 


3OO      Correspondence  with  Blackwood.  [RICHMOND, 

him  the  first  part  of  "  Amos,"  he  had  no  longer  any 
doubt  about  my  ability  to  carry  out  the  plan.  The 
scene  at  Cross  Farm,  he  said,  satisfied  him  that  I  had 
the  very  element  he  had  been  doubtful  about — it  was 
clear  I  could  write  good  dialogue.  There  still  remained 
the  question  whether  I  could  command  any  pathos; 
and  that  was  to  be  decided  by  the  mode  in  which  I 
treated  Milly's  death.  One  night  G.  went  to  town  on 
purpose  to  leave  me  a  quiet  evening  for  writing  it.  I 
wrote  the  chapter  from  the  .news  brought  by  the  shep- 
herd, to  Mrs.  Hackit,  to  the  moment  when  Amos  is 
dragged  from  the  bedside,  and  I  read  it  to  G.  when  he 
came  home.  We  both  cried  over  it,  and  then  he  came 
up  to  me  and  kissed  me,  saying, "  I  think  your  pathos 
is  better  than  your  fun." 

The  story  of  the  "  Sad  Fortunes  of  Amos  Bar- 
ton" was  begun  on  2 ad  September  and  finished 
on  the  5th  November,  and  I  subjoin  the  opening 
correspondence  between  Mr.  Lewes  and  Mr.  John 
Blackwood,  to  exhibit  the  first  effect  it  produced  : 

"  I  trouble  you  with  a  MS.  of  '  Sketches  of  Cleri- 
cal Life '  which  was  submitted  to  me  by  a  friend 
who  desired  my  good  offices  with  you.  It  goes  by 
this  post.  I  confess  that  before  reading  the  MS.  I 
had  considerable  doubts  of  my  friend's  powers  as 
a  writer  of  fiction ;  but,  after  reading  it,  these  doubts 
were  changed  into  very  high  admiration.  I  don't 
know  what  you  will  think  of  the  story,  but,  accord- 
ing to  my  judgment,  such  humor,  pathos,  vivid  pres- 
entation, and  nice  observation  have  not  been  ex- 
hibited (in  this  style)  since  the  '  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field  ;'  and,  in  consequence  of  that  opinion,  I  feel 
quite  pleased  in  negotiating  the  matter  with  you. 


1856.]  Opinion  of  "Amos  Barton."  301 

"  This  is  what  I  am  commissioned  to  say  to  you  fetter 

'          J         from  G.  H. 

about  the  proposed  series.     It  will  consist  of  tales  Lewes,  to 

John 

and  sketches  illustrative  of  the  actual  life  of  ourBlack-  , 

wood,  6th 

country  clergy  about  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago — NOV.  1856. 
but  solely  in  its  human,  and  not  at  all  in  its  theologi- 
cal aspects ;  the  object  being  to  do  what  has  never 
yet  been  done  in  our  literature,  for  we  have  had 
abundant  religious  stories,  polemical  and  doctrinal, 
but  since  the  'Vicar'  and  Miss  Austen,  no  stories 
representing  the  clergy  like  every  other  class,  with 
the  humors,  sorrows,  and  troubles  of  other  men. 
He  begged  me  particularly  to  add,  that — as  the 
specimen  sent  will  sufficiently  prove — the  tone 
throughout  will  be  sympathetic,  and  not  at  all  an- 
tagonistic. 

"  Some  of  these,  if  not  all,  you  may  think  suit- 
able for  '  Maga.'  If  any  are  sent  of  which  you 
do  not  approve,  or  which  you  do  not  think  suffi- 
ciently interesting,  these  he  will  reserve  for  the 
separate  republication,  and  for  this  purpose  he 
wishes  to  retain  the  copyright.  Should  you  only 
print  one  or  two,  he  will  be  well  satisfied ;  and  still 
better,  if  you  should  think  well  enough  of  the  series 
to  undertake  the  separate  republication." 

"I  am  happy  to  say  that  I  think  your  friend's  Letter 

""J  J  J  from  John 

reminiscences  of  Clerical  Life  will  do.     If  there  is  Blac^- 

\rood, 

any  more  of  the  series  written  I  should  like  to  see*00-^1- 
it,  as,  until  I  saw  more,  I  could  not  make  any  de- Nov-  **:•' 
cided  proposition  for  the  publication  of  the  tales, 
in  whole  or  in  part,  in  the  Magazine.     This  first 
specimen,  '  Amos  Barton,'  is  unquestionably  very 
pleasant  reading.     Perhaps  the   author  falls  into 
the  error  of  trying  too  much  to  explain  the  charac- 
ters of  his  actors  by  description  instead  of  allowing 


3O2  Opinion  of  "Amos  Barton"    [RICHMOND, 

Letter.  .          them  to  evolve  in  the  action  of  the  story  :  but  the 

Iroiu  John  •  ' 

descriptions  are  very  humorous  and  good.     The 
toG.  H.  death  of  Milly  is  powerfully  done,  and  affected  me 

Lewes,  1 2th  •  J 

Nov.  1856.  much.  I  am  not  sure  whether  he  does  not  spoil  it 
a  little  by  specifying  so  minutely  the  different  chil- 
dren and  their  names.  The  wind-up  is  perhaps  the 
lamest  part  of  the  story ;  and  there,  too,  I  think  the 
defect  is  caused  by  the  specifications  as  to  the  fort- 
unes of  parties  of  whom  the  reader  has  no  previous 
knowledge,  and  cannot,  consequently,  feel  much  in- 
terest. At  first,  I  was  afraid  that  in  the  amusing 
reminiscences  of  childhood  in  church  there  was  a 
want  of  some  softening  touch,  such  as  the  remem- 
brance of  a  father  or  mother  lends,  in  after-years,  to 
what  was  at  the  time  considerable  penance. 

"  I  hate  anything  of  a  sneer  at  real  religious  feel- 
ing as  cordially  as  I  despise  anything  like  cant,  and 
I  should  think  this  author  is  of  the  same  way  of 
thinking,  although  his  clergymen,  with  one  excep- 
tion, are  not  very  attractive  specimens  of  the  bod}'. 
The  revulsion  of  feeling  towards  poor  Amos  is  capi- 
tally drawn,  although  the  asinine  stupidity  of  his 
conduct  about  the  countess  had  disposed  one  to 
kick  him. 

"I  dare  say  I  shall  have  a  more  decided  opinion 
as  to  the  merits  of  the  story  when  I  have  looked 
at  it  again  and  thought  over  it ;  but  in  the  mean- 
time I  am  sure  that  there  is  a  happy  turn  of  expres- 
sion throughout,  also  much  humor  and  pathos.     If 
the  author  is  a  new  writer,  I  beg  to  congratulate 
fron^G.  H.        him  on  being  worthy  of  the  honors  of  print  and 
John*  pay.     I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you  or  him 

Black-  „ 

wood,  soon." 

Nov.ri8s6.  "  I  have  communicated  vour  letter  to  mv  clerical 


1856.]  Opinion  of  "Amos  Barton"  303 

friend,  who,  though  somewhat  discouraged  by  it,  has  Letter 

from  G.  ri. 

taken  my  advice,  and  will  submit  the  second  story  Lewes  to 

...  John 

to  you  when  it  is  written.     At  present  he  has  only  Biack- 

.  .  wood, 

written  what  he  sent  you.     His  avocations,  he  in-  Saturday, 

•*  Nov.  1856 

forms  me,  will  prevent  his  setting  to  work  for  the 
next  three  weeks  or  so,  but  as  soon  as  he  is  at  lib- 
erty he  will  begin. 

"  I  rate  the  story  much  higher  than  you  appear 
to  do,  from  certain  expressions  in  your  note,  though 
you  too  appreciate  the  humor  and  pathos  and  the 
happy  turn  of  expression.  It  struck  me  as  being 
fresher  than  any  story  I  have  read  for  a  long  while, 
and  as  exhibiting,  in  a  high  degree,  that  faculty 
which  I  find  to  be  the  rarest  of  all — viz.,  the  dra- 
matic ventriloquism. 

"  At  the  same  time  I  told  him  that  I  thoroughly 
understood  your  editorial  caution  in  not  accepting 
from  an  unknown  hand  a  series  on  the  strength  of 
one  specimen." 

"  I  was  very  far  from  intending  that  my  letter  Letter 

.  fr°m  John 

should  convey  anything  like  disappointment  to  your  Black- 
friend.     On  the  contrary,  I  thought  the  tale  verytoG-H- 
good,  and  intended  to   convey  as  much.     But  I  Nov-  i8s6- 
dare  say  I  expressed  myself  coolly  enough.     Criti- 
cism v/ould  assume  a  much  soberer  tone  were  crit- 
ics compelled  seriously  to  act  whenever  they  ex- 
pressed an  opinion.     Although  not  much  given  to 
hesitate  about  anything,  I  always  think  twice  before 
I  put  the  decisive  mark  '  In  type  for  the  Magazine' 
on  any  MS.  from  a  stranger.     Fancy  the  intense 
annoyance  (to  say  nothing  of  more  serious  consid- 
erations) of  publishing,  month  after  month,  a  series 
about  which  the  conviction  gradually  forces  itself 
on  you  that  you  have  made  a  total  blunder. 


304  Sensitiveness  of  the  Author.  [RICHMOND, 

Letter  "  I  am  sorry  that  the  author  has  no  more  written, 

from  John 

but  if  he  cares  much  about  a  speedy  appearance,  I 
toG.  H.  have  so  high  an  opinion  of  this  first  tale  that  I  will 

Lewes,  1 8th 

Nov.  1856.  waive  my  objections,  and  publish  it  without  seeing 
more — not,  of  course,  committing  myself  to  go  on 
with  the  other  tales  of  the  series  unless  I  approved 
of  them.  I  am  very  sanguine  that  I  will  approve, 
as,  in  addition  to  the  other  merits  of '  Amos,'  I  ngree 
with  you  that  there  is  great  freshness  of  style.  If 
you  think  also  that  it  would  stimulate  the  author  to 
go  on  with  the  other  tales  with  more  spirit,  I  will 
publish  '  Amos '  at  once.  He  could  divide  into  two 
parts.  I  am  blocked  up  for  December,  but  I  could 
start  him  in  January. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  your  friend  is,  as  I  sup- 
posed, a  clergyman.  Such  a  subject  is  best  in  cleri- 
cal hands,  and  some  of  the  pleasantest  and  least- 
prejudiced  correspondents  I  have  ever  had  are 
English  clergymen. 

"  I  have  not  read  '  Amos  Barton '  a  second  time, 
but  the  impression  on  my  mind  of  the  whole  char- 
acter, incidents,  and  feeling  of  the  story  is  very  dis- 
tinct, which  is  an  excellent  sign." 

Letter  "  Your  letter  has   greatly  restored   the  shaken 

from  G.  H.  * 

Lewes  to          confidence  of  my  friend,  who  is  unusually  sensitive, 
Black-  and,  unlike  most  writers,  is  more  anxious  about  ex- 

wood, 

Saturday,          ccllcnce  than  about  appearing  in  print — as  his  wait- 

Nov.  1856. 

ing  so  long  before  taking  the  venture  proves.  He 
is  consequently  afraid  of  failure,  though  not  afraid 
of  obscurity  ;  and  by  failure  he  would  understand 
that  which  I  suspect  most  writers  would  be  apt  to 
consider  as  success — so  high  is  his  ambition. 

"  I  tell  you  this  that  you  may  understand  the 
sort  of  shy,  shrinking,  ambitious  nature  you  have  to 


1856.]  "Scenes  of  Clerical  Life."  305 

deal  with.     I  tried  to  persuade  him  that  you  really  Letter 

'  J  from  G.  H 

did  appreciate  his  story,  but  were  only  hesitating  Lewes  t<> 
about  committing  yourself  to  a  series;   and  your  Biack- 
last  letter  has  proved  me  to  have  been  right — al-  Saturday, 

Nov.  1856. 

though,  as  he  never  contemplated  binding  you  to 
the  publication  of  any  portion  of  the  series  to  which 
you  might  object,  he  could  not  at  first  see  your  posi- 
tion in  its  true  light. 

"  All  is,  however,  clear  now.  He  will  be  gratified 
if  you  publish  'Amos  Barton'  in  January,  as  it  will 
give  him  ample  time  to  get  the  second  story  ready, 
so  as  to  appear  when  'Barton'  is  finished,  should 
you  wish  it.  He  is  anxious,  however,  that  you 
should  publish  the  general  title  of '  Scenes  of  Cleri- 
cal Life ;'  and  I  think  you  may  do  this  with  perfect 
safety,  since  it  is  quite  clear  that  the  writer  of 
'Amos  Barton'  is  capable  of  writing  at  least  one 
more  story  suitable  to  '  Maga ;'  and  two  would  suf- 
fice to  justify  the  general  title. 

"  Let  me  not  forget  to  add  that  when  I  referred 
to  '  my  clerical  friend,'  I  meant  to  designate  the 
writer  of  the  clerical  stories — not  that  he  was  a 
clericus.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  remove  the  veil  of 
anonymity,  even  as  regards  social  position.  Be 
pleased,  therefore,  to  keep  the  whole  secret,  and 
not  even  mention  my  negotiation,  or  in  any  way 
lead  guessers  (should  any  one  trouble  himself  with 
such  a  guess — not  very  likely)  to  jump  from  me  to 
my  friend." 

On  Christmas  Day,  1856,  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love- 
Story "  was  begun,  and  during  December  and  Janu- 
ary the  following  are  mentioned  among  the  books 
read:  The  "Ajax"  of  Sophocles,  Miss  Martineau's 
"History  of  the  Peace,"  Macaulay's  "History" 


306  " Amos  Barton"  Published.    [RICHMOND, 

finished,  Carlyle's  "French  Revolution,"  Burke's 
;<  Reflections    on    the    French    Revolution,"    and 
"Mansfield  Park." 
Letter  «  Along  with  this  I  send  a  copy  of  the  January 

from  John  rj  * 

Black-  number  of  the  Magazine,  in  which  you  will  find  the 

wood  to  J 

the  author         fjrst  par{  of '  Amos  Barton.'    It  gives  me  very  great 

of  "Amos  J  B 

Fath°r>'"  pleasure  to  begin  the  number  with  '  Amos,'  and  I 
1856.  put  him  in  that  position  because  his  merits  well  en- 

title him  to  it,  and  also  because  it  is  a  vital  point  to 
attract  public  attention  to  the  first  part  of  a  series, 
to  which  end  being  the  first  article  of  the  first  num- 
ber of  the  year  may  contribute. 

"I  have  already  expressed  to  our  friend  Mr. 
Lewes  the  very  high  opinion  I  entertain  of '  Amos,' 
and  the  expectations  I  have  formed  of  the  series, 
should  his  successors  prove  equal  to  him,  which  I 
fully  anticipate. 

"  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  have  read  anything  so 
fresh,  so  humorous,  and  so  touching.  The  style  is 
capital,  conveying  so  much  in  so  few  words. 

"  Those  who  have  seen  the  tale  here  are  chiefly 
members  of  my  own  family,  and  they  are  all  en- 
thusiastic in  praise. 

"You  may  recollect  that  I  expressed  a  fear  that 
in  the  affecting  and  highly  wrought  scene  of  poor 
Milly's  death,  the  attempt  to  individualize  the  chil- 
dren by  reiterating  their  names  weakened  the  effect, 
as  the  reader  had  not  been  prepared  to  care  for 
them  individually,  but  simply  as  a  group — the  chil- 
dren of  Milly  and  the  sorrow-stricken  curate.  My 
brother  says,  '  No.  Do  not  advise  the  author  to 
touch  anything  so  exquisite.'  Of  course  you  are 
the  best  judge. 

"  I  now  send  proof  of  the  conclusion  of  '  Amos; 


1857.]         Major  Blackwood's  Judgment.  307 

in  acknowledgment  of  which,  and  of  the  first  part,  Letter 

J  from  John 

I  have  the  pleasure  of  enclosing  a  check  for  ^"5 2  IDS.  Biack- 
— fifty  guineas.  the  author 

*    fc  of  "Amos 

"If  the  series  goes  on  as  I  anticipate,  there  is83**"*" 

agth  Dec. 

every  prospect  that  a  republication  as  a  separate  l8s6- 
book,  at  some  time  or  other,  will  be  advisable.  We 
would  look  upon  such  republication  as  a  joint 
property,  and  would  either  give  you  a  sum  for  your 
interest  in  it,  or  publish  on  the  terms  of  one  half  of 
the  clear  profits,  to  be  divided  between  author  and 
publisher,  as  might  be  most  agreeable  to  you. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  hear  from  you,  either 
direct  or  through  Mr.  Lewes  ;  and  any  intelligence 
that  the  successors  of  'Amos'  are  taking  form  and 
substance  will  be  very  acceptable. 

"I  shall  let  you  know  what  the  other  contribu- 
tors and  the  public  think  of 'Amos'  as  far  as  I  can 
gather  a  verdict,  but  in  the  meantime  I  may  con- 
gratulate you  on  having  achieved  a  preliminary  suc- 
cess at  all  events." 
Your  letter  has  proved  to  me  that  the  generous  editor  Letter 

from  the 

and  publisher — generous  both  in  word  and  in  deed — author  of 
who  makes  the  author's  path  smooth  and  easy,  is  some-  Barton" 

3  '  to  John 

thing  more  than  a  pleasant  tradition.     I  am  very  sen-  Black- 
wood,  Jan. 

sitive  to  the  merits  of  checks  for  fifty  guineas,  but  I  '857- 
am   still  more  sensitive  to  that  cordial  appreciation 
which  is  a  guarantee  to  me  that  my  work  was  worth 
doing  for  its  own  sake. 

If  the  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  should  be  repub- 
lished,  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  find  it  easy  to  arrange 
the  terms.  In  the  meantime,  the  most  pressing  busi- 
ness is  to  make  them  worth  republishing. 

I  think  the  particularization  of  the  children  in  the 
deathbed  scene  has  an  important  effect  on  the  imagi- 


308  "Mr.  Gilfirs  Love-Story"     [RICHMOND, 

Letter       nation.     But  I  have  removed  all  names  from  the  "  con- 

from  the 

author  of    elusion  "  except  those  of  Patty  and  Dickey,  in  whom, 
Kirtnn"     i  hope,  the  reader  has  a  personal  interest. 

to  John 

Hiack-  i  hope  to  send  you  the  second  story  by  the  begin- 

ning of  February.  It  will  lie,  for  the  most  part,  among 
quite  different  scenes  and  persons  from  the  last — open- 
ing in  Shepperton  once  more,  but  presently  moving 
away  to  a  distant  spot  and  new  people,  whom,  I  hope, 
you  will  not  like  less  than  "  Amos  "  and  his  friends. 
But  if  any  one  of  the  succeeding  stories  should  seem 
to  you  unsuitable  to  the  pages  of "  Maga,"  it  can  be  re- 
served for  publication  in  the  future  volume,  without 
creating  any  difficulty. 

Thank  you  very  warmly  for  the  hearty  acceptance 
you  have  given  to  my  first  story. 

journal,  'fhe  first  part  of  "Amos  Barton"  appeared  in  the 
January  number  of  Black-wood.  Before  the  appearance 
of  the  Magazine,  on  sending  me  the  proof,  Mr.  John 
Blackwood  already  expressed  himself  with  much  great- 
er warmth  of  admiration  ;  and  when  the  first  part  had 
appeared  he  sent  me  a  charming  letter,  with  a  check 
for  fifty  guineas,  and  a  proposal  about  republication  of 
the  series.  When  the  story  was  concluded  he  wrote 
me  word  how  Albert  Smith  had  sent  him  a  letter  say- 
ing he  had  never  read  anything  that  affected  him  more 
than  Milly's  death,  and,  added  Blackwood,  "The  men 
at  the  club  seem  to  have  mingled  their  tears  and  their 
tumblers  together.  It  will  be  curious  if  you  should  be 
a  member  and  be  hearing  your  own  praises."  There 
was  clearly  no  suspicion  that  I  was  a  woman.  It  is 
interesting,  as  an  indication  of  the  value  there  is  in 
such  conjectural  criticism  generally,  to  remember  that 
when  G.  read  the  first  part  of  "Amos"  to  a  party  at 
Helps's,  they  were  all  sure  I  was  a  clergyman — a  Cam- 


1857.]         Author  s  Desire  for  Opinions.  309 

bridge  man.     Blackwood   seemed  curious  about  the  Journal, 

1857. 
author,  and,  when  I  signed  my  letter  "  George  Eliot," 

hunted  up  some  old  letters  from  Eliot  Warburton's 
brother  to  compare  the  handwritings,  though,  he  said, 
"'Amos'  seems  to  me  not  in  the  least  like  what  that 
good  artilleryman  would  write." 

Thank  you  for  fulfilling  your  promise  to  let  me  knowLetTtej; 

0  J  to  John 

something  of  the  criticisms  passed  on   my  story.     I  Black- 

J  J  wood,  4th 

have  a  very  moderate   respect  for  "opinions  of  the  Feb.  1857. 
press,"  but  the  private  opinions  of  intelligent  people 
may  be  valuable  to  me. 

In  reference  to  artistic  presentation  much  adverse 
opinion  will,  of  course,  arise  from  a  dislike  to  the  order 
of  art  rather  than  from  a  critical  estimate  of  the  exe- 
cution. Any  one  who  detests  the  Dutch  school  in 
general  will  hardly  appreciate  fairly  the  merits  of  a 
particular  Dutch  painting.  And  against  this  sort  of 
condemnation  one  must  steel  one's  self  as  one  best 
can.  But  objections  which  point  out  to  me  any  vice 
of  manner,  or  any  failure  in  producing  an  intended  ef- 
fect, will  be  really  profitable.  For  example,  I  suppose  my 
scientific  illustrations  must  be  at  fault,  since  they  seem 
to  have  obtruded  themselves  disagreeably  on  one  of  my 
readers.  But  if  it  be  a  sin  to  be  at  once  a  man  of  sci- 
ence and  a  writer  of  fiction,  I  can  declare  my  perfect 
innocence  on  that  head,  my  scientific  knowledge  being 
as  superficial  as  that  of  the  most  "practised  writers." 
I  hope  to  send  you  a  second  story  in  a  few  days,  but  I 
am  rather  behindhand  this  time,  having  been  prevented 
from  setting  to  work  for  some  weeks  by  other  business. 

Whatever  may  be  the  success  of  my  stories,  I  shall 
be  resolute  in  preserving  my  incognito,  having  observed 
that  a  nom  de plume  secures  all  the  advantages  without 
the  disagreeables  of -reputation.  Perhaps,  therefore,  it 


3IO  Pseudonym  Assumed.         [RICHMOND, 


to  £'ve  y°u  my  ProsPect've  name,  as  a  tub 
Hiack-       to  throw  to  the  whale  in  case  of  curious  inquiries  :  and 

wood,  4ih 

Feb.  1857.  accordingly  I  subscribe  myself,  best  and  most  sympa- 
thizing of  editors,  yours  very  truly,     GEORGE  ELIOT. 

I  may  mention  here  that  my  wife  told  me  the 
reason  she  fixed  on  this  name  was  that  George  was 
Mr.  Lewes's  Christian  name,  and  Eliot  was  a  good, 
mouth-filling,  easily  pronounced  word. 

ufi'ohn      First  let  me  thank  you  very  heartily  for  your  letter 

00?  isth  °^  t^ie  I0tn-     -Except  your  own  very  cordial  apprecia- 

Feb.  1857.  tion,  which  is  so  much  beyond  a  mere  official  accept- 

ance, that  little  fact  about  Albert  Smith  has  gratified 

me  more  than  anything  else  in  connection  with  the 

effect  of  "Amos."     If  you  should  happen  to  hear  an 

opinion  from  Thackeray,  good  or  bad,  I  should  like  to 

know  it. 

You  will  see  that  I  have  availed  myself  of  your  sug- 
gestions on  points  of  language.  I  quite  recognize  the 
justice  of  your  criticisms  on  the  French  phrases.  They 
are  not  in  keeping  with  my  story. 

But  I  am  unable  to  alter  anything  in  relation  to  the 
delineation  or  development  of  character,  as  my  stories 
always  grow  out  of  my  psychological  conception  of  the 
dramatis  persona.  For  example,  the  behavior  of  Cate- 
rina  in  the  gallery  is  essential  to  my  conception  of  her 
nature,  and  to  the  development  of  that  nature  in  the 
plot.  My  artistic  bent  is  directed  not  at  all  to  the 
presentation  of  eminently  irreproachable  characters, 
but  to  the  presentation  of  mixed  human  beings  in  such 
a  way  as  to  call  forth  tolerant  judgment,  pity,  and  sym- 
pathy. And  I  cannot  stir  a  step  aside  from  what  I 
feel  to  be  true  in  character.  If  anything  strikes  you 
as  untrue  to  human  nature  in  my  delineations,  I  shall 
be  very  glad  if  you  will  point  it  dut  to  me,  that  I  may 


1857-]  Psychological  Instinct.  311 

reconsider  the  matter.     But,  alas  !  inconsistencies  and  Letter 

to  John 

weaknesses  are  not  untrue.     I  hope  that  your  doubts  Biack- 

•*  wood,  iSth 

about  the  plot  will  be  removed  by  the  further  develop-  Feb.  1857. 
ment  of  the  story.     Meanwhile,  warmest  thanks  for 
your  encouraging  letters. 

I  am  the  more  inclined  to  think  that  I  shall  admire  Letter MO 

Miss  Sara 

your  book  because  you  are  suspected  of  having  given  H^"npU; 
undue  preponderance  to  the  Christian  argument :  for  l857- 
I  have  a  growing  conviction  that  we  may  measure  true 
moral  and  intellectual  culture  by  the  comprehension 
and  veneration  given  to  all  forms  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing which  have  influenced  large  masses  of  mankind — 
and  of  all  intolerance 'the  intolerance  calling  itself 
philosophical  is  the  most  odious  to  me. 

Thank  you  for  the  copy  of  "  Maga  "  and  for  the  ac-  Lette'- 
companying  check.     One  has  not  many  correspondents  Biack- 
whose  handwriting  has  such  agreeable  associations  as  Mch- l857- 
yours. 

I  was  particularly  pleased  with  that  extract  you  were 
so  good  as  to  send  me  from  Mr.  Svvayne's  letter.  Dear 
old  "  Goldie  "  is  one  of  my  earliest  and  warmest  admi- 
rations, and  I  don't  desire  a  better  fate  than  to  lie  side 
by  side  with  him  in  people's  memories. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Swayne  had  written  to  Blackwood 
saying  that  "  Amos,"  in  its  charming  tendencies, 
reminded  him  of  the  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  Black- 
wood  had  written,  much  delighted  with  the  two  first 
parts  of  "  Mr.  GilhTs  Love-Story,"  which  were  sent 
to  him  together. 

I  began,  oddly  enough  you  will  perhaps  think,  by  read- Letter  to 
ing  through  the  "Answers  of  Infidelity," '  those  being  Henneii, 
the  most  interesting  parts  of  the  book  to  me.  Some  1857. 

»  "Baillie  Prize  Essay  on  Christianity  and  Infidelity  :  an  Expo- 
sition of  the  Arguments  on  both  Sides."  By  Miss  Sara  Hennell. 


312  Miss  HcnncW s  Essay.        [RICHMOND, 

Letter  to    of  your  own  passages  I  think  very  admirable — some 

Miss  Sara  *  .  ' 

Henneii,    of  them  made  me  cry.  which  is  always  a  sign  of  the 

zd  Mch.  ' 

'857-  highest  pleasure  writing  can  give  me.  But  in  many  of 
the  extracts,  I  think,  Infidelity  cuts  a  very  poor  figure. 
Some  are  feeble,  some  bad,  and  terribly  discrepant  in 
the  tone  of  their  thought  and  feeling  from  the  passages 
which  come  fresh  from  your  own  mind.  The  disad- 
vantage arising  from  the  perpetual  shifting  of  the  point 
of  view  is  a  disadvantage,  I  suppose,  inseparable  from 
the  plan,  which  I  cannot  admire  or  feel  to  be  effective, 
though  I  can  imagine  it  may  be  a  serviceable  form  of 
presentation  to  some  inquirers.  The  execution  I  do 
admire.  I  think  it  shows  very  high  and  rare  qualities 
of  mind  —  a  self- discipline  and  largeness  of  thought 
which  are  the  highest  result  of  culture.  The  "Objec- 
tions of  Christianity,"  which  I  have  also  read,  are  ex- 
cellently put,  and  have  an  immense  advantage  over  the 
"  Answers  of  Infidelity  "  in  their  greater  homogeneity. 
The  first  part  I  have  only  begun  and  glanced  through, 
and  at  present  have  no  other  observation  to  make  than 
that  I  think  you  might  have  brought  a  little  more  ar- 
tillery to  bear  on  Christian  morality.  But  nothing  is 
easier  than  to  find  fault — nothing  so  difficult  as  to  do 
some  real  work. 

NfTs^Sara       ^  tn'n^  I  wrote  very  brusquely  and  disagreeably  to 

^fhTich'    }°u  ^ie  °tner  day,  but  the  impertinence  was  altogether 

in  the  form  and  not  at  all  in  the  feeling.     I  always 

have  uncomfortable  sensations  after  writing  objections 

and  criticisms  when  they  relate  to  things  I  substantially 

admire.     It  is  inflicting  a  hurt  on  my  own  veneration. 

I  showed  the  passage  on  the  eye,  p.  157,  to  Herbert 

Spencer,  and  he  agrees  with  us  that  you  have  not 

stated  your  idea  so  as  to  render  it  a  logical  argument 

against  design.     You  appear  to  imply  that  developmen  t 


i857-]  Caterings  Character.  313 

and  gradation  in  organs  and  functions  are  opposed  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

to   that   conception,  which  they  are  not.     I   suppose  Henneii, 

r          5th  Mch. 

you  are  aware  that  we  all  three  hold  the  conception  '857- 
of  creative  design  to  be  untenable.     We  only  think 
you  have  not  made  out  a  good  case  against  it. 

Thank  you  for  sending  me  some  news  of  Harriet 
Martineau.  I  have  often  said  lately,  "  I  wonder  how 
she  is." 

I  am  glad  you  retain  a  doubt  in  favor  of  the  dagger,  Letr¥ 
and  wish  I  could  convert  you  to  entire  approval,  for  I  Black- 

*  wood,  1 4th 

am  much   more  satisfied  when  your  feeling  is  thor- Mch-  l8& 
oughly  with  me.     But  it  would  be  the  death  of  my 
story  to  substitute  a  dream  for  the  real  scene.     Dreams 
usually  play  an  important  part  in  fiction,  but  rarely,  I 
think,  in  actual  life. 

So  many  of  us  have  reason  to  know  that  criminal 
impulses  may  be  felt  by  a  nature  which  is  neverthe- 
less guarded  by  its  entire  constitution  from  the  com- 
mission of  crime,  that  I  can't  help  hoping  that  my 
Caterina  will  not  forfeit  the  sympathy  of  all  my 
readers. 

The  answer  you  propose  to  give  to  curious  inquirers 
is  the  best  possible.  For  several  reasons  I  am  very 
anxious  to  retain  my  incognito  for  some  time  to  come, 
and,  to  an  author  not  already  famous,  anonymity  is  the 
highest  prestige.  Besides,  if  George  Eliot  turns  out  a 
dull  dog  and  an  ineffective  writer — a  mere  flash  in  the 
pan — I,  for  one,  am  determined  to  cut  him  on  the  first 
intimation  of  that  disagreeable  fact. 

The  fates  have  willed  that  this  shall  be  a  very  mel- 
ancholy story,  and  I  am  longing  to  be  a  little  merrier 
again. 

On  the  1 6th  March  Mr.  Lewes  and  George  Eliot 
started  for  Plymouth,  Penzance,  and  the  Scilly  Isles, 


314  Description  of  St.  Mary  s.      CILLY  ISLES, 

and  we  have  the   following  recollections  of  their 
stay  there : 
Recoiieo-    I  had  never  before  seen  a  granite  coast,  and  on  the 

tions,  Scilly  .  -  .  ,/.,-, 

isles,        southern  side  of  the  island  of  St.  Mary  s  one  sees  such 

March-  .        .  .,  .  ' 

May,  1857.  a  coast  m  its  most  striking  and  characteristic  forms. 
Rectangular  crevices,  the  edges  of  which  have  been 
rounded  by  weather,  give  many  of- the  granite  masses 
a  resemblance  to  bales  of  wool  or  cotton  heaped  on 
each  other ;  another  characteristic  form  is  the  mush- 
room-shaped mass,  often  lying  poised  on  the  summits 
of  more  cubical  bowlders  or  fragments  ;  another  is  the 
immense  flat  platform  stretching  out  like  a  pier  into 
the  sea ;  another  the  oval  basins  formed  by  the  action 
of  the  rain-water  on  the  summits  of  the  rocks  and  bowl- 
ders. The  coloring  of  the  rocks  was  very  various  and 
beautiful ;  sometimes  a  delicate  grayish-green,  from 
the  shaggy  byssus  which  clothes  it,  chiefly  high  up 
from  the  water;  then  a  light,  warm  brown  ;  then  black ; 
occasionally  of  a  rich  yellow  ;  and  here  and  there  pur- 
plish. Below  the  rocks,  on  the  coast,  are  almost  ev- 
erywhere heaps  of  white  bowlders,  sometimes  remark- 
ably perfect  ovals,  and  looking  like  huge  eggs  of  some 
monstrous  bird.  Hardly  any  weed  was  to  be  seen  on 
the  granite,  except  here  and  there  in  a  rock-pool,  green 
with  young  ulva ;  and  no  barnacles  incrust  the  rock, 
no  black  mussels,  scarcely  any  limpets.  The  waves 
that  beat  on  this  coast  are  clear  as  crystal,  and  we 
used  to  delight  in  watching  them  rear  themselves  like 
the  horses  of  a  mighty  sea-god  as  they  approached  the 
rocks  on  which  they  were  broken  into  eddies  of  milky 
foam.  Along  a  great  part  of  this  southern  coast  there 
stretch  heathy  or  furzy  downs,  over  which  I  used  to 
enjoy  rambling  immensely ;  there  is  a  sense  of  free- 
dom in  those  unenclosed  grounds  that  one  never  has 


1857.]  Color  on  the  Sea.  3 1 5 

in   a  railed  park,  however  extensive.     Then,  on  the  Recollec- 
tions, Scilly 
north  side  of  the  island,  above  Sandy  Bar.  what  a  view  isles, 

'  March- 

we  used  to  get  of  the  opposite  islands  and  reefs,  with  May,  1857. 
their  delicious  violet  and  yellow  tints — the  tall  ship  or 
two  anchored  in  the  Sound,  changing  their  aspect  like 
living  things,  and  when  the  wind  was  at  all  high  the 
white  foam  prancing  round  the  reefs  and  rising  in  foun- 
tain-like curves  above  the  screen  of  rocks  ! 

Many  a  wet  and  dirty  walk  we  had  along  the  lanes, 
for  the  weather  was  often  wet  and  almost  always  blus- 
tering. Now  and  then,  however,  we  had  a  clear  sky 
and  a  calm  sea,  and  on  such  days  it  was  delicious  to 
look  up  after  the  larks  that  were  soaring  above  us,  or 
to  look  out  on  the  island  and  reef  studded  sea.  I  never 
enjoyed  the  lark  before  as  I  enjoyed  it  at  Scilly — never 
felt  the  full  beauty  of  Shelley's  poem  on  it  before.  A 
spot  we  became  very  fond  of  towards  the  close  of  our 
stay  was  Carne  Lea,  where,  between  two  fine,  jutting 
piles  of  granite,  there  was  a  soft  down,  gay  with  the 
pretty  pink  flowers  of  the  thrift,  which,  in  this  island, 
carpets  the  ground  like  greensward.  Here  we  used  to 
sit  and  lie  in  the  bright  afternoons,  watching  the  silver 
sunlight  on  the  waves — bright  silver,  not  golden — it  is 
the  morning  and  evening  sunlight  that  is  golden.  A 
week  or  two  after  our  arrival  we  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Mr.  Moyle,  the  surgeon,  who  became  a  delightful 
friend  to  us,  always  ready  to  help  with  the  contents  of 
his  surgery  or  anything  else  at  his  command.  We  liked 
to  have  him  come  and  smoke  a  cigar  in  the  evening, 
and  look  in  now  and  then  for  a  little  lesson  in  micro- 
scopy. The  little  indications  of  the  social  life  at  Scilly 
that  we  were  able  to  pick  up  were  very  amusing.  I 
was  repeatedly  told,  in  order  to  make  me  aware  who 
Mr.  Hall  was,  that  he  married  a  Miss  Lemon.  The 


316  Social  Life  at  St.  Marys.  [SCILLY  ISLES, 

Recoilec-   people  at  St.  Mary's  imagine  that  the  lawyers  and  doc- 

tions,  Sally r  J  ' 

isles,        tors  at  Penzance  are  a  sort  of  European  characters 

March- 
May,  1857.  that  every  one  knows.     We  heard  a  great  deal  about 

Mr.  Quill,  an  Irishman,  the  Controller  of  the  Customs ; 
and  one  day,  when  we  were  making  a  call  on  one  of 
the  residents,  our  host  said  two  or  three  times,  at  in- 
tervals, "  I  wish  you  knew  Quill !"  At  last,  on  our 
farewell  call,  we  saw  the  distinguished  Quill,  with  his 
hair  plastered  down,  his  charming  smile,  and  his  trou- 
sers with  a  broad  stripe  down  each  leg.  Our  host 
amused  us  by  his  contempt  for  curs  :  "  Oh,  I  wouldn't 
have  a  cur — there's  nothing  to  look  at  in  a  cur !" ' 
Letter  to  The  smallest  details,  written  in  the  hastiest  way, 

Mrs.  Bray, 

5th  April,  that  will  enable  me  to  imagine  you  as  you  are,  are  just 
what  I  want ;  indeed,  all  I  care  about  in  correspond- 
ence. We  are  more  and  more  in  love  with  these  little 
islands.  There  is  not  a  tree  to  be  seen,  but  there  are 
grand  granite  hills  on  the  coast,  such  as  I  never  saw 
before,  and  furze-covered  hills  with  larks  soaring  and 
singing  above  them,  and  zoological  wonders  on  the 
shore  to  fill  our  bottles  and  our  souls  at  once.  For 
some  time  I  have  been  unusually  weak  and  knock-up- 
able.  Our  landlady  is  an  excellent  woman,  but,  like 
almost  all  peculiarly  domestic  women,  has  not  more 
than  rudimentary  ideas  of  cooking ;  and  in  an  island 
where  you  can  get  nothing  but  beef,  except  by  send- 
ing to  Penzance,  that  supreme  science  has  its  maximum 
value.  She  seems  to  think  eating  a  purely  arbitrary 
procedure — an  abnormal  function  of  mad  people  who 
come  to  Scilly ;  and  if  we  ask  her  what  the  people  live 
on  here,  is  quite  at  a  loss  to  tell  us,  apparently  think- 
ing the  question  relates  to  the  abstruser  portion  of 

1  "  Mill  on  the  Floss,"  chap.  iii.  book  iv.     Bob  Jakin. 


1857-]  "Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte"  317 

natural  history.     But  I  insist,  and  give  her  a  culinary  Letter  to 

1  3  Mrs.  Bray, 

lecture  every  morning,  and  we  do,  in  the  end,  get  fed.  sth  April, 
Altogether  our  life  here  is  so  far  better  than  the  golden 
age  that  we  work  as  well  as  play.  That  is  the  happy 
side  of  things.  But  there  is  a  very  sad  one  to  me 
which  I  shall  not  dwell  upon — only  tell  you  of.  More 
than  a  week  ago  I  received  the  news  that  poor  Chris- 
sey  had  lost  one  of  her  pretty  little  girls  of  fever ;  that 
the  other  little  one — they  were  the  only  two  she  had 
at  home  with  her — was  also  dangerously  ill,  and  Chris- 
sey  herself  and  her  servant  apparently  attacked  by  ty- 
phus too.  The  thought  of  her  in  this  state  is  a  perpet- 
ual shadow  to  me  in  the  sunshine. 

I  shudder  at  entering  on  such  great  subjects  (as  Letter  to 

J  V        Miss  Sara 

"Design")  in  letters:  my  idle  brain  wants  lashing  to  Henneii, 

i6th  April, 

work,  like  a  negro,  and  will  do  nothing  under  a  slighter  1857. 
stimulus.  We  are  enjoying  a  retrogression  to  old-fash- 
ioned reading.  I  rush  on  the  slightest  pretext  to  Soph- 
ocles, and  am  as  excited  about  blind  old  CEdipus  as 
any  young  lady  can  be  about  the  latest  hero  with  mag- 
nificent eyes.  But  there  is  one  new  book  we  have  been 
enjoying,  and  so,  I  hope,  have  you — the  "Life  of  Char- 
lotte Bronte."  Deeply  affecting  throughout ;  in  the 
early  part  romantic,  poetic,  as  one  of  her  own  novels ; 
in  the  later  years  tragic,  especially  to  those  who  know 
what  sickness  is.  Mrs.  Gaskell  has  done  her  work 
admirably,  both  in  the  industry  and  care  with  which 
she  has  gathered  and  selected  her  material,  and  in  the 
feeling  with  which  she  has  presented  it.  There  is  one 
exception,  however,  which  I  regret  very  much.  She 
sets  down  Branwell's  conduct  entirely  to  remorse. 
Remorse  may  make  sad  work  with  a  man,  but  it  will 
not  make  such  a  life  as  Branwell's  was  in  the  last  three 
or  four  years,  unless  the  germs  of  vice  had  sprouted 


318  Anxiety  for  Mrs.  Clarke.  [SCILLY  ISLES, 

Letter  to    and  shot  up  long  before,  as  it  seems  clear  they  had  in 
Henneii,    him.     What  a  tragedy ! — that  picture  of  the  old  father 

1 6th  April, 

1857-  and  the  three  sjsters  trembling,  day  and  night,  in  ter- 
ror at  the  possible  deeds  of  their  drunken,  brutal  son 
and  brother !  That  is  the  part  of  the  life  which  affects 
me  most. 

Letter  to        I  have  been  looking  anxiously  for  some  further  tid- 
E  vans,  ioth  ings  of  Chrissey  since  your  last  letter,  which  told  me 

April,  1857.    ,  ,   __  .  r 

that  she  and  Kate  were  better,  though  not  out  of  dan- 
ger. I  try  to  hope  that  no  news  is  good  news  ;  but  if 
you  do  not  think  it  troublesome  to  write,  I  shall  be 
thankful  to  have  that  hope  changed  into  certainty. 

Meanwhile,  to  save  multiplying  letters  —  which  I 
know  you  are  not  fond  of — I  mention  now  what  will 
take  no  harm  from  being  mentioned  rather  prema- 
turely. I  should  like  Chrissey  to  have  £15  of  my 
next  half-year's  income,  due  at  the  beginning  of  June, 
to  spend  in  taking  a  change  of  air  as  soon  as  she  is 
able  to  do  so ;  and  perhaps,  if  it  were  desirable  for 
her  to  leave  before  the  money  has  been  paid  in,  you 
would  be  so  kind  as  to  advance  it  for  a  few  weeks.  I 
am  writing,  of  course,  in  ignorance  of  her  actual  state  ; 
but  I  should  think  it  must  be  good  for  her,  as  soon  as 
she  is  able  to  move,  to  leave  that  fever-infected  place 
for  a  time,  and  I  know  the  money  must  have  gone  very 
fast  in  recent  expenses.  I  only  suggest  the  change  of 
air  as  the  thing  that  I  should  think  best  for  Chrissey ; 
but,  in  any  case,  I  should  like  her  to  have  the  money, 
to  do  what  she  pleases  with  it.  If  she  is  well  enough 
please  to  give  her  the  enclosed  note,  in  which  I  have 
suggested  to  her  what  I  have  just  written  to  you. 

I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  last  letter,  and 
shall  be  still  more  so  if  you  will  write  me  word  of 
Chrissey's  present  condition.. 


1857-]  Conclusions  of  Stories.  319 

Thank  you  for  the  pleasant  notes  of  impressions  Letter^ 
concerning  my  story,  sent  to  me  through  Lewes. 

I  will  pay  attention  to  your  caution  about  the  dan-  May,  1857. 
ger  of  huddling  up  my  stories.     Conclusions  are  the 
weak  point  of  most  authors,  but  some  of  the  fault  lies 
in  the  very  nature  of  a  conclusion,  which  is  at  best  a 
negation. 

There  must  be  something  wrong  in  the  winding-up 
of  "  Amos,"  for  I  have  heard  of  two  persons  who  are 
disappointed  with  the  conclusion.  But  the  story  never 
presented  itself  to  me  as  possible  to  be  protracted  af- 
ter Milly's  death.  The  drama  ends  there. 

I  am  thinking  of  writing  a  short  epilogue  to  "  Mr. 
Gilfil's  Love-Story,"  and  I  will  send  it  you  with  the 
proof  from  Jersey,  where,  on  a  strict  promise  that  I 
am  not  to  be  dissected,  I  shall  shortly  join  our  friend 
Lewes. 

The  third  story  will  be  very  different  from  either  of 
the  preceding,  which  will  perhaps  be  an  advantage,  as 
poor  Tina's  sad  tale  was  necessarily  rather  monotonous 
in  its  effects. 

The  epilogue  to  "  Mr.  Gilfil  "  was  written  sitting 
on  the  Fortification  Hill,  Scilly  Isles,  one  sunshiny 
morning. 

It  was  a  beautiful  moment  (i2th  May)  when  we  came  jersev, 
to  our  lodgings  at  Gorey.     The  orchards  were  all  in  ticks',  fss?. 
blossom — and  this  is  an  island  of  orchards.     They 
cover  the  slopes;  they  stretch  before  you  in  shady, 
grassy,  indefinite  extent  through  every  other  gateway 
by  the  roadside;  they  flourish  in  some  spots  almost 
close  to  the  sea.     What  a  contrast  to  the  Scilly  Isles ! 
There  you  stand  on  the  hills  like  a  sparrow  on  the 
housetop;  here  you  are  like  the  same  sparrow  when  he 
is  hopping  about  on  the  branches  with  green  above 


320  Jersey  Scenery.  [JERSEY, 

jersey,  him,  green  below,  and  green  all  round.  Gorey  stands 
tions,  1857.  in  Granville  Bay,  where  the  grand  old  castle  of  Mont 
Orgueil  stands  and  keeps  guard  on  a  fine  rocky  promon- 
tory overlooking  the  little  harbor  clotted  with  fishing 
craft.  There  is  a  charming  piece  of  common,  or  down, 
where  you  can  have  the  quietest,  easiest  walking,  with 
a  carpet  of  minute  wild-flowers  that  are  not  hindered 
from  flourishing  by  the  sandy  rain  of  the  coast.  I  de- 
lighted extremely  in  the  brownish-green  softness  of 
this  undulating  common,  here  and  there  varied  with  a 
patch  of  bright  green  fern — all  the  prettier  for  two  lit- 
tle homesteads  set  down  upon  it,  with  their  garden- 
fence  and  sheltering  trees.  It  was  pretty  in  all  lights, 
but  especially  the  evening  light,  to  look  round  at  the 
castle  and  harbor,  the  village  and  the  scattered  dwell- 
ings peeping  out  from  among  trees  on  the  hill.  The 
castle  is  built  of  stone  which  has  a  beautiful  pinkish- 
gray  tint,  and  the  bright  green  ivy  hangs  oblique  cur- 
tains on  its  turreted  walls,  making  it  look  like  a  nat- 
ural continuation  or  outgrowth  of  the  rocky  and  grassy 
height  on  which  it  stands.  Then  the  eye  wanders  on 
to  the  right  and  takes  in  the  church  standing  half-way 
down  the  hill,  which  is  clothed  with  a  plantation,  and 
shelters  the  little  village,  with  its  cloud  of  blue  smoke  ; 
still  to  the  right,  and  the  village  breaks  off,  leaving 
nothing  but  meadows  in  front  of  the  slope  that  shuts 
out  the  setting  sun,  and  only  lets  you  see  a  hint  of  the 
golden  glory  that  is  reflected  in  the  pink,  eastern 

clouds. 

« 

The  first  lovely  walk  we  found  inland  was  the  Queen's 
Fern  Valley,  where  a  broad  strip  of  meadow  and  past- 
ure lies  between  two  high  slopes  covered  with  woods 
and  ferny  wilderness.  When  we  first  saw  this  valley 
it  was  in  the  loveliest  spring-time;  the  woods  were  a 


i857-]  Inland  Walks.  321 

delicious  mixture  of  red  and  tender  green  and  purple.  Jersey, 

r      r        Recollec- 

We  have  watched  it  losing  that  spring  beauty  and  pass-  tions,  1857 
ing  into  the  green  and  flowery   luxuriance  of  June, 
and  now  into  the  more  monotonous  summer  tint  of 
July. 

When  the  blossoms  fell  away  from  the  orchards  my 
next  delight  was  to  look  at  the  grasses  mingled  with  the 
red  sorrel;  then  came  the  white  umbelliferous  plants, 
making  a  border  or  inner  frame  for  them  along  the 
hedgerows  and  streams.  Another  pretty  thing  here  is 
the  luxuriance  of  the  yellow  iris,  that  covers  large  pieces 
of  moist  ground  with  its  broad  blades.  Everywhere 
there  are  tethered  cows,  looking  at  you  with  meek 
faces  —  mild-eyed,  sleek,  fawn-colored  creatures,  with 
delicate,  downy  udders. 

Another  favorite  walk  of  ours  was  round  by  Mont 
Orgueil,  along  the  coast.  Here  we  had  the  green  or 
rocky  slope  on  one  side  of  us,  and  on  the  other  the 
calm  sea  stretching  to  the  coast  of  France,  visible  on 
all  but  the  murkiest  days.  But  the  murky  days  were 
not  many  during  our  stay,  and  our  evening  walks  round 
the  coast  usually  showed  us  a  peaceful,  scarcely  rippled 
sea,  plashing  gently  on  the  purple  pebbles  of  the  little 
scalloped  bays.  There  were  two  such  bays  within  the 
boundary  of  our  sea-side  walk  in  that  direction,  and 
one  of  them  was  a  perpetual  wonder  to  us,  in  the 
luxuriant  verdure  of  meadows  and  orchards  and  forest- 
trees  that  sloped  down  to  the  very  shore.  No  dis- 
tressed look  about  the  trees  as  if  they  were  ever  driven 
harshly  back  by  the  winter  winds — it  was  like  an  inland 
slope  suddenly  carried  to  the  coast. 

As  for  the  inland  walks,  they  are  inexhaustible.    The 
island  is  one  labyrinth  of  delicious  roads  and  lanes, 
leading  you  by  the  most  charming  nooks  of  houses 
14* 


322  Books  Read.  [JERSEY, 

jersey,      with  shady  grounds  and  shrubberies,  delightful  farm 

tions,  1857.  homesteads,  and  trim  villas. 

It  was  a  sweet,  peaceful  life  we  led  here.  Good 
creatures,  the  Amys,  our  host  and  hostess,  with  their 
nice  boy  and  girl,  and  the  little  white  kid — the  family 
pet.  No  disagreeable  sounds  to  be  heard  in  the  house, 
no  unpleasant  qualities  to  hinder  one  from  feeling  per- 
fect love  to  these  simple  people.  We  have  had  long 
rambles  and  long  readings.  But  our  choice  of  litera- 
ture has  been  rather  circumscribed  in  this  out-of-the- 
way  place.  The  "  Life  of  George  Stephenson  "  has 
been  a  real  profit  and  pleasure.  I  have  read  Draper's 
"  Physiology  "  aloud  for  grave  evening  hours,  and  such 
books  as  Currer  Bell's  "  Professor,"  Mile.  d'Auny's 
"  Manage  en  Province,"  and  Miss  Ferrier's  "  Mar- 
riage," for  lighter  food.  The  last,  however,  we  found 
ourselves  unable  to  finish,  notwithstanding  Miss  Fer- 
rier's high  reputation.  I  have  been  getting  a  smatter- 
ing of  botany  from  Miss  Callow  and  from  Dr.  Thom- 
son's little  book  on  wild-flowers,  which  have  created 
at  least  a  longing  for  something  more  complete  on  the 
subject. 

Letter  to        Such   hedgerows   in   this   island!     Such    orchards, 

Miss  Sara 

Henneii,  white  against  the  green  slopes,  and  shady  walks  by  the 
1857.  '  woodside,  with  distracting  wild-flowers.  We  enjoy  the 
greenery  and  variety  of  this  bushy  island  all  the  better 
for  our  stay  on  bare  Scilly,  which  we  had  gone  to  and 
fro  upon  till  we  knew  it  by  heart.  Our  little  lodgings 
are  very  snug — only  13^.  a  week — a  nice  little  sitting- 
room,  with  a  workroom  adjoining  for  Mr.  Lewes,  who 
is  at  this  moment  in  all  the  bliss  of  having  discovered 
a  parasitic  worm  in  a  cuttlefish.  We  dine  at  five,  and 
our  afternoons  are  almost  exhausted  in  rambling.  I 
hope  to  get  up  my  strength  in  this  delicious  quiet,  and 


1 85 7.]         First  Mention  of  Mr.  Liggins.  323 

have  fewer  interruptions  to  work  from  headache  than  Better  to 

Miss  Sara 

I  have  been  having  since  Christmas.     I  wonder  if  I  H<;nnel!> 

22d  May, 

should  have  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  Cara  if  I  had  l857- 
been  at  Richmond  now.  I  would  rather  see  her  tha"n 
any  "one  else  in  the  world — except  poor  Chrissey. 
Tell  me  when  you  have  read  the  life  of  Currer  Bell. 
Some  people  think  its  revelations  in  bad  taste— mak- 
ing money  out  of  the  dead,  wounding  the  feelings  of 
the  living,  etc.  What  book  is  there  that  some  people 
or  other  will  not  find  abominable  ?  We  thought  it  ad- 
mirable, cried  over  it,  and  felt  the  better  for  it.  We 
read  Cromwell's  letters  again  at  Scilly  with  great  de- 
light. 

In  May  Mr.  Lewes  writes  to  Mr.  John  Blackwood  : 
"We  were  both  amused  with  the  divination  of 
the  Manx  seer  and  his  friend  Liggers."  This  is 
the  first  mention  of  the  individual,  whose  real  name 
was  Liggins  of  Nuneaton,  who  afterwards  became 
notorious  for  laying  claim  to  the  authorship  of  the 
"  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  "  and  "  Adam  Bede." 

"Janet's  Repentance"  had  been  begun  on  the 
i8th  April,  and  the  first  three  parts  were  finished 
in  Jersey.  In  reference  to  the  "  Scenes  of  Cleri- 
cal Life"  there  are  the  following  entries  in  the 
Journal : 

May  2. — Received  letter  from  Blackwood  express- Journal, 
ing  his  approbation  of  Part  IX.  of  "  Mr.  GilfiTs  Love- 
Story. "  He  writes  very  pleasantly,  says  the  series  is 
attributed  by  many  to  Bulwer,  and  that  Thackeray 
thinks  highly  of  it.  This  was  a  pleasant  fillip  to  me, 
who  am  just  now  ready  to  be  dispirited  on  the  slightest 
pretext. 

May  21. — The  other  day  we  had  a  pleasant  letter 
from  Herbert  Spencer,  saying  that  he  had  heard  "  Mr. 


324  Opinions  of  "Mr.  Gilfil."  [JERSEY, 

journal,  GilfiTs  Love-Story  "  discussed  by  Baynes  and  Dallas, 
as  well  as  previously  by  Pigott,  all  expressing  warm 
approval,  and  curiosity  as  to  the  author. 

May  26. — Received  a  pleasant  letter  from  Black- 
wood,  enclosing  one  from  Archer  Gurney  to  the  author 
of  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story." 

I  subjoin  this  letter,  as  it  is  the  first  she  received 
in  her  character  of  a  creative  author,  and  it  still 
bears  a  pencil  memorandum  in  her  writing:  "This 
letter  he  brought  up  to  me  at  Jersey  after  read- 
ing it,  saying,  with  intense  joy, '  Her  fame  is  begin- 
ning.'" 

Letter  "  BUCKINGHAM  (BUCKS), 

A«™£eT-  Thursday,  14**  May,  1857. 

Gurney  to  ,,  0.          ITT-II  -j         •  .     •  •          .     • 

the  author  Sir, — Will   you   consider  it   impertinent   in   a 

Giifii's''  brother  author  and  old  reviewer  to  address  a  few 

Story,"  lines  of  earnest  sympathy  and  admiration  to  you, 

IBS;.    a  excited  by  the  purity  of  your  style,  originality  of 

your  thoughts,  and  absence  of  all  vulgar  seeking 
for  effect  in  those  '  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  '  now 
appearing  in  Blackwood?  If  I  mistake  not  much, 
your  muse  of  invention  is  no  hackneyed  one,  and 
your  style  is  too  peculiar  to  allow  of  your  being 
confounded  with  any  of  the  already  well-known 
writers  of  the  day.  Your  great  and  characteristic 
charm  is,  to  my  mind,  Nature.  You  frequently,  in- 
deed, express  what  I  may  call  brilliant  ideas,  but 
they  always  seem  to  come  unsought  for,  never,  as 
in  Lytton,  for  instance,  to  be  elaborated  and  placed 
in  the  most  advantageous  light.  I  allude  to  such 
brief  aphoristic  sayings  as  '  Animals  are  such  agree- 
able friends,  they  ask  no  questions,  they  pass  no 
criticisms ' — '  All  with  that  brisk  and  cheerful  air 
which  a  sermon  is  often  observed  to  produce  when 


i857-l    Rev.  Archer  Gurney  on  "The  Scenes."     325 
it  is  quite  finished.'     By-the-bye,  I  am  one  of  the  Letter 

*  .  from  Rev. 

cloth,  and  might  take  exception  to  certain  hints.  Archer 

'  Gurney  to 

perhaps,  but  these  are  dubious.     What  I  see  plain-  the  author 

of  "  Mr. 

ly  I  admire  honestly,  and  trust  that  more  good  re-  pi]fi''s 
mains  behind.     Will   you  always  remain   equally  story," 

J  J  Mth  May, 

natural?  That  is  the  doubt.  Will  the  fear  of  the  '857- 
critic,  or  the  public,  or  the  literary  world,  which 
spoils  almost  every  one,  never  master  you?  Will 
you  always  write  to  please  yourself,  and  preserve  the 
true  independence  which  seems  to  mark  a  real  su- 
premacy of  intellect?  But  these  questions  are,  I 
fear,  impertinent.  I  will  conclude.  Pardon  this 
word  of  greeting  from  one  whom  you  may  never 
see  or  know,  and  believe  me  your  earnest  admirer, 

ARCHER  GURNEY. 
"  The  Author  of 

'  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story.'  " 

June. — Blackwood  writes  from  London  that  he  hears  J°umai« 

1857. 

nothing  but  approval  of  "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story." 
Lord  Stanley,  among  other  people,  had  spoken  to  him 
about  the  "  Clerical  Scenes,"  at  Bulwer's,  and  was  as- 
tonished to  find  Blackwood  in  the  dark  as  to  the  au- 
thor. 

I  send  you  by  the  same  post  with  this  the  first  part  Letter 

of  my  third  story,  which  I  hope  will  not  disappoint  Black- 
wood,  2d 
you.     The  part  is,  I  think,  rather  longer  than  my  parts  June,  1857 

have  usually  been,  but  it  would  have  been  injurious  to 
the  effect  of  the  story  to  pause  earlier. 

Pleasant  letters  like  yours  are  the  best  possible 
stimulus  to  an  author's  powers,  and  if  I  don't  write 
better  and  better  the  fault  will  certainly  not  lie  in  my 
editor,  who  seems  to  have  been  created  in  pre-estab- 
lished harmony  with  the  organization  of  a  susceptible 
contributor. 


326        Professor  Aytouns  Admiration.       [JERSEY, 
Letter  This  island,  too,  with  its  grassy  valleys  and  pretty, 

to  Jolin 

Black-       indented  coast  is  not  at  all  abaci  haunt  for  the  Muses, 

wood,  3d 

June,  1857.  if,  as  one  may  suppose,  they  have  dropped  their  too 
scanty  classical  attire,  and  appear  in  long  dresses  and 
brown  hats,  like  decent  Christian  women  likely  to  in- 
spire "  Clerical  Scenes." 

Moreover,  having  myself  a  slight  zoological  weak- 
ness, I  am  less  alarmed  than  most  people  at  the  society 
of  a  zoological  maniac.  So  that,  altogether,  your  con- 
tributor is  in  promising  circumstances,  and  if  he  doesn't 
behave  like  an  animal  in  good  condition,  is  clearly  un- 
worthy of  his  keep. 

I  am  much  gratified  to  have  made  the  conquest  of 
Professor  Aytoun  ;  but  with  a  parent's  love  for  the  de- 
preciated child,  I  can't  help  standing  up  for  "Amos" 
as  better  than  "  Gilfil." 

Lewes  seems  to  have  higher  expectations  from  the 
third  story  than  from  either  of  the  preceding ;  but  I 
can  form  no  judgment  myself  until  I  have  quite  finished 
a  thing,  and  see  it  aloof  from  my  actual  self.  I  can 
only  go  on  writing  what  I  feel,  and  waiting  for  the 
proof  that  I  have  been  able  to  make  others  feel. 
Letter  to  Richmond  is  not  fascinating  in  "the  season"  or 

Mrs.  Bray, 

sth  June,  through  the  summer.  It  is  hot,  noisy,  and  haunted 
with  Cockneys ;  but  at  other  times  we  love  the  Park 
with  an  increasing  love,  and  we  have  such  a  kind,  good 
landlady  there,  that  it  always  seems  like  going  home 
when  we  return  to  Park  Shot.  She  writes  to  us :  "I 
hope  you  will  make  your  fortune — but  you  must  al- 
ways live  with  me,"  which,  considering  that  she  gets 
less  out  of  us  than  other  lodgers,  is  a  proof  of  affection 
in  a  landlady.  Yes  !  we  like  our  wandering  life  at 
present,  and  it  is  fructifying,  and  brings  us  material  in 
many  ways ;  but  we  keep  in  perspective  the  idea  of  a 


1857-]       Interest  in  Mrs.  Sibrees  Family.         327 
cottage  among  green  fields  and  cows,  where  we  mean  Letter  to 

Mrs.  Bray, 

to  settle  down  (after  we  have  once  been  to  Italy),  and  s*  June, 
buy  pots  and  kettles  and  keep  a  dog.     Wherever  we 
are  we  work  hard — and  at  work  which  brings  present 
money ;  for  we  have  too  many  depending  on  us  to  be 
dilettanti  or  idlers. 

I  wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  should  never  invite 
any  one  to  come  and  see  me  who  did  not  ask  for  the 
invitation. 

You  wonder  how  my  face  has  changed  in  the  last 
three  years.  Doubtless  it  is  older  and  uglier,  but  it 
ought  not  to  have  a  bad  expression,  for  I  never  have 
anything  to  call  out  my  ill-humor  or  discontent,  which 
you  know  were  always  ready  enough  to  come  on  slight 
call,  and  I  have  everything  to  call  out  love  and  grati- 
tude. 

Your  letter  was  very  sweet  to  me.     The  sense  of  Mer"ej^n 
my  deficiencies  in  the  past  often  presses  on  me  with  a^aash(^s 
discouraging  weight,  and  to  know  that  any  one  can  re-^»6J| 
member  me  lovingly,  helps  me  to  believe  that  there 
has  been  some  good  to  balance  the  evil.     I  like  to 
think  of  you  as  a  happy  wife  and  mother;  and  since 
Rosehill  must  have  new  tenants,  I  like  to  think  that 
you  and  yours  are  there  rather  than  any  one  else,  not 
only  because  of  my  own  confidence  in  your  nature,  but 
because  our  dear  friends  love  you  so  much  as  a  neigh- 
bor.    You  know  I  can  never  feel  otherwise  than  sorry 
that  they  should  not  have  ended  their  days  in  that 
pretty  home ;  but  the  inevitable  regret  is  softened  as 
much  as  possible  by  the  fact  that  the  home  has  be- 
come yours. 

It  is  very  nice  to  hear  that  Mrs.  Sibree  can  relish 
anything  of  my  writing.  She  was  always  a  favorite 
with  me;  and  I  remember  very  vividly  many  pleasant 


328  Psychical  Satisfaction.  [JERSEY, 

Letterto    little  conversations  with  her.      Seventy-two!      How 

Mrs.  John  * 

^^(M^  happy  you  are  to  have  a  dear,  aged  mother,  whose 
ree),6th     heart  you  can  gladden. 

June,  1857.  * 

I  was  a  good  deal  touched  by  the  letter  your  brother 
wrote  to  you  about  accepting,  or,  rather,  declining,  more 
pupils.  I  feel  sure  that  his  sensitive  nature  has  its 
peculiar  trials  and  struggles  in  this  strange  life  of  ours, 
which  some  thick-skinned  mortals  take  so  easily. 

I  am  very  happy — happy  in  the  highest  blessing  life 
can  give  us,  the  perfect  love  and  sympathy  of  a  nature 
that  stimulates  my  own  to  healthful  activity.  I  feel, 
too,  that  all  the  terrible  pain  I  have  gone  through  in 
past  years,  partly  from  the  defects  of  my  own  nature, 
partly  from  outward  things,  has  probably  been  a  prepa- 
ration for  some  special  work  that  I  may  do  before  I 
die.  That  is  a  blessed  hope,  to  be  rejoiced  in  with 
trembling.  But  even  if  that  hope  should  be  unfulfilled, 
I  am  contented  to  have  lived  and  suffered  for  the  sake 
of  what  has  already  been.  You  see  your  kind  letter 
has  made  me  inclined  to  talk  about  myself,  but,  as  we 
do  not  often  have  any  communication  with  each  other, 
I  know  it  will  be  a  gratification  to  your  sympathetic 
nature  to  have  a  few  direct  words  from  me  that  will 
assure  you  of  my  moral  well-being. 

I  hope  your  little  ones  are  just  like  you — just  as  fair 
and  sweet-tempered. 

I  sent  off  the  first  part  of  "Janet's  Repentance,"  but 
to  my  disappointment  Blackwood  did  not  like  it  so 
well — seemed  to  misunderstand  the  characters,  and  to 
be  doubtful  about  the  treatment  of  clerical  matters. 
I  wrote  at  once  to  beg  him  to  give  up  printing  the 
story  if  he  felt  uncomfortable  about  it,  and  he  imme- 
diately sent  a  very  anxious,  cordial  letter,  saying  the 
thought  of  putting  a  stop  to  the  series  "gave  him  quite 


"Janefs  Repentance"  329 

a  turn  :"  he  "  did  not  meet  with  George  Eliots  every  Journal, 

J  June,  1857. 

day  " — and  so  on. 

I  am  not  much  surprised  and  not  at  all  hurt  by  your  Letter 
letter  received  to-day  with  the  proof.     It  is  a  great  Black-" 
satisfaction — in  fact,  my  only  satisfaction — that  you  June,' 1857. 
should  give  me  your  judgment  with  perfect  frankness. 
I  am  able,  I  think,  to  enter  into  an  editor's  doubts  and 
difficulties,  and  to  see  my  stories  in  some  degree  from 
your  point  of  view  as  well  as  my  own.     My  answer  is 
written  after  considering  the  question  as  far  as  possi- 
ble on  all  sides,  and  as  I  feel  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  make  any  other  than  superficial  alterations  in  the 
proof,  I  will,  first  of  all,  say  what  I  can  in  explanation 
of  the  spirit  and  future  course  of  the  present  story. 

The  collision  in  the  drama  is  not  at  all  between 
"bigoted  churchmanship  "  and  evangelicalism,  but  be- 
tween /rreligion  and  religion.  Religion  in  this  case 
happens  to  be  represented  by  evangelicalism ;  and  the 
story,  so  far  as  regards  the  persecution,  is  a  real  bit  in 
the  religious  history  of  England,  that  happened  about 
eight-and-twenty  years  ago.  I  thought  I  had  made  it 
apparent  in  my  sketch  of  Milby  feelings,  on  the  advent 
of  Mr.  Tryan,  that  the  conflict  lay  between  immorality 
and  morality — irreligion  and  religion.  Mr.  Tryan  will 
carry  the  reader's  sympathy.  It  is  through  him  that 
Janet  is  brought  to  repentance.  Dempster's  vices  have 
their  natural  evolution  in  deeper  and  deeper  moral  de- 
terioration (though  not  without  softening  touches),  and 
death  from  intemperance.  Everything  is  softened  from 
the  fact,  so  far  as  art  is  permitted  to  soften  and  yet  to 
remain  essentially  true. 

My  sketches,  both  of  Churchmen  and  Dissenters, 
with  whom  I  am  almost  equally  acquainted,  are  drawn 
from  close  observation  of  them  in  real  life,  and  not  at 


33°  "Janet's  Repentance"  [JERSEY, 

Letter       all  from  hearsay  or  from  the  descriptions  of  novelists. 

to  John 

Hi.ick-       If  I  were  to  undertake  to  alter  language  or  character, 

wood,  nth 

June,  1857. 1  should  be  attempting  to  represent  some  vague  con- 
ception of  what  may  possibly  exist  in  other  people's 
minds,  but  has  no  existence  in  my  own.  Such  of  your 
marginal  objections  as  relate  to  a  mere  detail  I  can 
meet  without  difficulty  by  alteration ;  but  as  an  artist 
I  should  be  utterly  powerless  if  I  departed  from  my 
own  conceptions  of  life  and  character.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  be  done  with  the  story,  but  either  to  let  Demp- 
ster and  Janet  and  the  rest  be  as  I  see  them,  or  to  re- 
nounce it  as  too  painful.  I  am  keenly  alive  at  once 
to  the  scruples  and  alarms  an  editor  may  feel,  and  to 
my  own  utter  inability  to  write  under  cramping  influ- 
ence, and  on  this  double  ground  I  should  like  you  to 
consider  whether  it  will  not  be  better  to  close  the 
series  for  the  Magazine  now.  I  dare  say  you  will  feel 
no  difficulty  about  publishing  a  volume  containing  the 
story  of  "Janet's  Repentance,"  and  I  shall  accept  that 
plan  with  no  other  feeling  than  that  you  have  been 
to  me  the  most  liberal  and  agreeable  of  editors,  and 
are  the  man  of  all  others  I  would  choose  for  a  pub- 
lisher. 

My  irony,  so  far  as  I  understand  myself,  is  not  di- 
rected against  opinions — against  any  class  of  religious 
views — but  against  the  vices  and  weaknesses  that  be- 
long to  human  nature  in  every  sort  of  clothing.  But 
it  is  possible  that  I  may  not  affect  other  minds  as  I 
intend  and  wish  to  affect  them,  and  you  are  a  better 
judge  than  I  can  be  of  the  degree  in  which  I  may  oc- 
casionally be  offensive.  I  should  like  not  to  be  offen- 
sive— I  should  like  to  touch  every  heart  among  my 
readers  with  nothing  but  loving  humor,  with  tender- 
ness, with  belief  in  goodness.  But  I  may  have  failed 


"Janets  Repentance"  331 

in  this  case  of  "  Tanet,"  at  least  so  far  as  to  have  made  Letter 

J  to  John 

you  feel  its  publication  in  the  Magazine  a  disagreeable  B)ack- 

'  wood,  nth 

risk.  If  so,  there  will  be  no  harm  done  by  closing  the  June>  1857- 
series  with  No.  2,  as  I  have  suggested.  If,  however,  I 
take  your  objections  to  be  deeper  than  they  really  are 
— if  you  prefer  inserting  the  story  in  spite  of  your  par- 
tial dissatisfaction,  I  shall,  of  course,  be  happy  to  ap- 
pear under  "  Maga's"  wing  still. 

When  I  remember  what  have  been  the  successes  in 
fiction,  even  as  republications  from  "Maga,"  I  can  hard- 
ly believe  that  the  public  will  regard  my  pictures  as  ex- 
ceptionally coarse.  But  in  any  case  there  are  too 
many  prolific  writers  who  devote  themselves  to  the 
production  of  pleasing  pictures,  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
disagreeable  truths,  for  me  to  desire  to  add  to  their 
number.  In  this  respect,  at  least,  I  may  have  some 
resemblance  to  Thackeray,  though  I  am  not  conscious 
of  being  in  any  way  a  disciple  of  his,  unless  it  consti- 
tute discipleship  to  think  him,  as  I  suppose  the  majority 
of  people  with  any  intellect  do,  on  the  whole  the  most 
powerful  of  living  novelists. 

I  feel  every  day  a  greater  disinclination  for  theories  Letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

and  arguments  about  the  origin  of  things  in  the  pres-  Henneii, 

°  .  8th  June, 

ence  of  all  this  mystery  and  beauty  and  pain  and  ugli- 1857- 
ness  that  floods  one  with  conflicting  emotions. 

We  are  reading  "Aurora  Leigh"  for  the  third  time, 
with  more  enjoyment  than  ever.  I  know  no  book  that 
gives  me  a  deeper  sense  of  communion  with  a  large  as 
well  as  beautiful  mind.  It  is  in  process  of  appearing 
in  a  third  edition,  and  no  wonder. 

If  I  live  five  years  longer  the  positive  result  of  my 
existence  on  the  side  of  truth  and  goodness  will  out- 
weigh the  small  negative  good  that  would  have  con- 
sisted in  my  not  doing  anything  to  shock  others,  and  I 


332  Mr.  Try  an.  [RICHMOND, 

Letter  to    can  conceive  no  consequences  that  will  make  me  re- 
Miss  Sara 
Henneii,    pent  the  past.     Do  not  misunderstand  me,  and  sup- 

Sth  June,     r 

l8S7-  pose  that  I  think  myself  heroic  or  great  in  any  way. 
Far  enough  from  that !  Faulty,  miserably  faulty  I  am 
— but  least  of  all  faulty  where  others  most  blame. 

On  the  24th  July  the  pleasant  sojourn  at  Jer- 
sey came  to  an  end.  The  travellers  returned  to 
8  Park  Shot,  Richmond,  where  Miss  Sara  Hennell 
paid  them  a  visit  at  the  end  of  the  month,  and  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  Bodichon  (nee  Miss  Barbara  L.  Smith) 
came  on  the  4th  of  August.  On  the  i2th  Au- 
gust there  is  an  entry  in  the  Journal,  "  Finished 
the  'Electra'  of  Sophocles,  and  began  ^Eschylus's 
'  Agamemnon,' "  and  then  come  the  following  let- 
ters : 
Letter  Lewes  has  just  given  me  your  letter  of  the  isth,  with 

to  John  J  3  ° 

lack-       the  accompanying  one  from  the  Rev.  W.  P.  Jones. 
Tuesday,        Mr.  Tryan  is  not  a  portrait  of  any  clergyman,  living 
'857-     a    or  dead.     He  is  an  ideal  character,  but  I  hope  proba- 
ble enough  to  resemble  more   than   one  evangelical 
clergyman  of  his  day. 

If  Mr.  Jones's  deceased  brother  was  like  Mr.  Tryan 
so  much  the  better,  for  in  that  case  he  was  made  of 
human  nature's  finer  clay.  I  think  you  will  agree  with 
me  that  there  are  few  clergymen  who  would  be  depre- 
ciated by  an  identification  with  Mr.  Tryan.  But  I 
should  rather  suppose  that  the  old  gentleman,  misled 
by  some  similarity  in  outward  circumstances,  is  blind 
to  the  discrepancies  which  must  exist  where  no  por- 
trait was  intended.  As  to  the  rest  of  my  story,  so  far 
as  its  elements  were  suggested  by  real  persons,  those 
persons  have  been,  to  use  good  Mr.  Jones's  phrase, 
"long  in  eternity." 

I  think  I  told  you  that  a  persecution  of  the  kind  I 


1857.]  Rosa  Bonheur.  333 

have  described  did  actually  take  place,  and  belongs  as  Lotter 

to  John 

much  to  the  common  store  of  our  religious  history  as  Black- 

0  '          wood, 

the  Gorham  Controversy,  or  as  Bishop  Blomfield's  de-  Tuesday, 

1 7th  Aug. 

cision  about  wax  candles.  But  I  only  know  the  outline  ^i- 
of  the  real  persecution.  The  details  have  been  filled 
in  from  my  imagination.  I  should  consider  it  a  fault 
which  would  cause  me  lasting  regret  if  I  had  used  re- 
ality in  any  other  than  the  legitimate  way  common  to 
all  artists,  who  draw  their  materials  from  their  observa- 
tion and  experience.  It  would  be  a  melancholy  result 
of  my  fictions  if  I  gave ///.$•/  cause  of  annoyance  to  any 
good  and  sensible  person.  But  I  suppose  there  is  no 
perfect  safeguard  against  erroneous  impressions  or  a 
mistaken  susceptibility.  We  are  all  apt  to  forget  how 
little  there  is  about  us  that  is  unique,  and  how  very 
strongly  we  resemble  many  other  insignificant  people 
who  have  lived  before  us.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  sev- 
eral nieces  of  pedantic  maiden  ladies  saw  a  portrait  of 
their  aunt  in  Miss  Pratt,  but  I  hope  they  will  not  think 
it  necessary,  on  that  ground,  to  increase  the  already 
troublesome  number  of  your  correspondents. 

We  went  to  see  Rosa  Bonheur's  picture  the  other  Letter  to 
day.     What  power !     That  is  the  way  women  should  Henneii, 
assert  their  rights.     Writing  is  part  of  my  religion,  and  1857. 
I  can  write  no  word  that  is  not  prompted  from  within. 
At  the  same  time  I  believe  that  almost  all  the  best 
books  in  the  world  have  been  written  with  the  hope  of 
getting  money  for  them. 

Unless  there  be  any  strong  reason  to  the  contrary,  Letter 
I  should  like  to  close  the  series  with  this  story.     Ac-Biac°k-n 

...  i-i  wood,  iBt 

cording  to  my  calculation,  which,  however,  may  be  an  Sept.  1857 
erroneous  one,  the  three  stories  will  make  two  good 
volumes — /.  e.,  good  as  to  bulk. 

I  have  a  subject  in  my  mind  which  will  not  come 


334  Thought,  not  Action.         [RICHMOND, 

Letter       under  the  limitations  of  the  title  "Clerical  Life,"  and 

to  John 

Black-       I  am  inclined  to  take  a  large  canvas  for  it  and  write  a 

wood,  ist 

sept.  1856.  novel. 

In  case  of  my  writing  fiction  for  "Maga"  again,  I 
should  like  to  be  considerably  beforehand  with  my 
work,  so  that  you  can  read  a  thoroughly  decisive  portion 
before  beginning  to  print. 

Letter  to        The  days  are  very  peaceful — peacefully  busy.     One 
Henneii,    always  feels  a  deeper  calm  as  autumn  comes  on.     I 

2 1  st  Sept. 

»3s7-  should  be  satisfied  to  look  forward  to  a  heaven  made 
up  of  long  autumn  afternoon  walks,  quite  delivered 
from  any  necessity  of  giving  a  judgment  on  the  woman 
question,  or  of  reading  newspapers  about  Indian  mu- 
tinies. I  am  so  glad  there  are  thousands  of  good  peo- 
ple in  the  world  who  have  very  decided  opinions,  and 
are  fond  of  working  hard  to  enforce  them.  I  like  to 
feel  and  think  everything  and  do  nothing,  a  pool  of  the 
"deep  contemplative"  kind. 

Some  people  do  prosper — that  is  a  comfort.  The 
rest  of  us  must  fall  back  on  the  beatitudes — "  Blessed 
are  the  poor" — that  is  Luke's  version,  you  know,  and 
it  is  really,  on  the  whole,  more  comforting  than  Mat- 
thew's. I'm  afraid  there  are  few  of  us  who  can  appro- 
priate the  blessings  of  the  "poor  in  spirit." 

We  are  reading  one  of  the  most  wonderful  books  in 
French  or  any  other  literature — Monteil's  "  Histoire 
des  Franc.ais  des  divers  Etats  " — a  history  written  on 
an  original  plan.  If  you  see  any  account  of  it,  read 
that  account. 

Letter  I  am  very  much  gratified  that  my  Janet  has  won 

to  John  *  3    J 

Black-       your  heart  and  kept  up  your  interest  in  her  to  the  end. 

wood, 

Saturday,        My  new  story  haunts  me  a  good  deal,  and  I  shall 

i7th  Oct.  J  ° . 

'857-  set  about  it  without  delay.  It  will  be  a  country  story 
— full  of  the  breath  of  cows  and  the  scent  of  hay.  But 


1857.]  Meditating  New  Story.  335 

I  shall  not  ask  you  to  look  at  it  till  I  have  written  a  Letter 

*  to  John 

volume  or  more,  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  judge  Black- 

*  J        to     wootj 

whether  you  will  prefer  printing  it  in  the  Magazine,  or  Saturday, 
publishing  it  as  a  separate  novel  when  it  is  completed.  l8s?- 

By  the  way,  the  sheets  of  the  "  Clerical  Scenes  "  are 
not  come,  but  I  shall  not  want  to  make  any  other  than 
verbal  and  literal  corrections,  so  that  it  will  hardly  be 
necessary  for  me  to  go  through  the  sheets  and  the 
proofs,  which  I  must,  of  course,  see. 

I  enclose  a  titlepage  with  a  motto.  But  if  you 
don't  like  the  motto,  I  give  it  up.  I've  not  set  my 
heart  on  it. 

I  leave  the  number  of  copies  to  be  published,  and 
the  style  of  getting  up,  entirely  to  your  discretion.  As 
to  the  terms,  I  wish  to  retain  the  copyright,  according 
to  the  stipulation  made  for  me  by  Lewes  when  he  sent 
"  Amos  Barton  ;"  and  whatever  you  can  afford  to  give 
me  for  the  first  edition  I  shall  prefer  having  as  a  defi- 
nite payment  rather  than  as  half  profits. 

You  stated,  in  a  letter  about  "  Amos  Barton,"  your 
willingness  to  accede  to  either  plan,  so  I  have  no  hesi- 
tation in  expressing  my  wishes. 

"Open  to  conviction,"  indeed!     I  should  think  so.  letter  to 

Miss  Sara 

I  am  open  to  conviction  on  all  points  except  dinner  Henneii, 

zoth  Oct. 

and  debts.     I  hold  that  the  one  must  be  eaten  and  the  1857. 
other  paid.     These  are  my  only  prejudices. 

I  was  pleased  with  Mr.  Call.1  He  is  a  man  one 
really  cares  to  talk  to  —  has  thoughts,  says  what  he 

»  Mr.  W.  M.  W.  Call,  author  of  "  Reverberations  and  other  Po- 
ems," who  married  Mr.  Charles  Hennell's  widow — formerly  Miss 
Brabant.  As  will  be  seen  from  the  subsequent  correspondence, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Call  remained  among  the  Lewes's  warm  friends  to 
the  end,  and  Mr.  Call  is  the  author  of  an  interesting  paper  on 
George  Eliot  in  the  Westminster  Review  of  July,  188i. 


336  The  "Woman  Question:1     [RICHMOND, 

Letter  to    means,  and  listens  to  what  others  say.     We  should 

Miss  Sara  * 

Henneii,    quite  like  to  see  him  often.     And  I  cannot  tell  you  how 

20th  Oct. 

1857-  much  I  have  felt  Mrs.  Call's  graceful  as  well  as  kind 
behavior  to  me.  Some  months  ago,  before  the  new 
edition  of  the  "Biographical  History  of  Philosophy" 
came  out,  Mr.  Lewes  had  a  letter  from  a  working-man 
at  Leicester,  I  think,  who  said  that  he  and  some  fellow- 
students  met  together,  on  a  Sunday,  to  read  the  book 
aloud  and  discuss  it.  He  had  marked  some  errors  of 
the  press  and  sent  them  to  Mr.  Lewes  for  his  new  edi- 
tion. Wasn't  that  pretty  ? 

Letter  to        «  Conscience  goes  to  the  hammering  in  of  nails  "  is 

the  crays, 

soth  Oct.  my  gospel.  There  can  be  no  harm  in  preaching  that 
to  women  at  any  rate.  But  I  should  be  sorry  to  under- 
take any  more  specific  enunciation  of  doctrine  on  a 
question  so  entangled  as  the  "  woman  question."  The 
part  of  the  Epicurean  gods  is  always  an  easy  one ;  but 
because  I  prefer  it  so  strongly  myself,  I  the  more  high- 
ly venerate  those  who  are  struggling  in  the  thick  of 
the  contest.  "La  carriere  ouverte  aux  tale'ns,"  wheth- 
er the  talents  be  feminine  or  masculine,  I  am  quite  con- 
fident is  a  right  maxim.  Whether  "La  carriere  ou- 
verte a  la  Sottise  "  be  equally  just  when  made  equally 
universal,  it  would  be  too  much  like  "  taking  sides  " 
for  me  to  say. 

There  are  only  three  entries  in  the  journal  for 
October. 

iDtt™*'1  Ort-  9- — Finished  "Janet's  Repentance."  I  had  meant 
to  carry  on  the  series,  and  especially  I  longed  to  tell 
the  story  of  the  "  Clerical  Tutor,"  but  my  annoyance 
at  Blackwood's  want  of  sympathy  in  the  first  part  (al- 
though he  came  round  to  admiration  at  the  third  part) 
determined  me  to  close  the  series  and  republish  them 
in  two  volumes. 


Unbelief  in  Others  Love.  337 

Oct.  22. — Began  my  new  novel,  "Adam  Bede."          Journal, 

Oct.  1857. 

Oct.  29. — Received  a  letter  from  Blackwood  offering 
me  ;£i2o  for  the  first  edition  of  "Scenes  of  Clerical 
Life." 

I  am  quite  contented  with  the  sum  (-£120)  you  offer  Le»er 

to  John 

me  for  the  edition,  being  thoroughly  confident  of  your  Black- 

°      J  J  wood,  3oth 

disposition  to  do  the  best  you  can  for  me.     I  perceive  Oct-  l8s?- 
your  hope  of  success  for  the  "  Scenes  "  is  not  strong, 
and  you  certainly  have  excellent  means  of  knowing  the 
probabilities  in  such  a  case. 

I  am  not  aware  that  the  motto  has  been  used  be- 
fore, but  if  you  suspect  it,  we  had  better  leave  it  out 
altogether.  A  stale  motto  would  hardly  be  an  orna- 
ment to  the  titlepage. 

How  I  wish  I  could  get  to  you  by  some  magic,  and  fetter  to 

•*  3  Mrs.  Biay, 

have  one  walk  over  the  hill  with  you  again.  Letters  ist  Nov- 
are  poor  things  compared  with  five  minutes  of  looking 
and  speaking,  and  one  kiss.  Nevertheless,  I  do  like 
to  have  a  little  letter  now  and  then,  though  I  don't  for  a 
moment  ask  it  if  you  have  no  spontaneous  impulse  to 
give  it.  I  can't  help  losing  belief  that  people  love  me 
— the  unbelief  is  in  my  nature,  and  no  sort  of  fork  will 
drive  it  finally  out.  I  can't  help  wondering  that  you 
can  think  of  me  in  the  past  with  much  pleasure.  It  all 
seems  so  painful  to  me  —  made  up  of  blunders  and 
selfishness — and  it  only  comes  back  upon  me  as  a  thing 
to  be  forgiven.  That  is  honest,  painful  truth,  and  not 
sentimentality.  But  I  am  thankful  if  others  found 
more  good  than  I  am  able  to  remember. 

It  is  pleasant  to  have  the  first  sheet  of  one's  proof —  Letter 

to  John 

to  see  one's  paragraphs  released  from  the  tight-lacing  Biack- 

wood,  7th 

of  double  columns,  and  expanding  themselves  at  their  NOV.  1857. 
ease. 

I  perceive  clearly  the  desirableness  of  the  short  num- 


338  Progress  of  New  Story.       [RICHMOND, 

Letter       her — for  my  observation  of  literary  affairs  has  gone  far 

to  John 

uiack-      enough  to  convince  me  that  neither  critical  judgment 

wood,  7th 

Nov.  1857-  nor  practical  experience  can  guarantee  any  opinion  as 
to  rapidity  of  sale  in  the  case  of  an  unknown  author  ; 
and  I  shudder  at  the  prospect  of  encumbering  my  pub- 
lisher's bookshelves. 

My  new  story  is  in  progress — slow  progress  at  pres- 
ent. A  little  sunshine  of  success  would  stimulate  its 
growth,  I  dare  say.  Unhappily,  I  am  as  impressiona- 
ble as  I  am  obstinate,  and  as  much  in  need  of  sympa- 
thy from  my  readers  as  I  am  incapable  of  bending 
myself  to  their  tastes.  But  if  I  can  only  find  a  public 
as  cordial  and  agreeable  in  its  treatment  of  me  as  my 
editor,  I  shall  have  nothing  to  wish.  Even  my  thin 
skin  will  be  comfortable  then.  The  page  is  not  a 
shabby  one,  after  all ;  but  I  fear  the  fact  of  two  vol- 
umes instead  of  three  is  a  fatal  feature  in  my  style  in 
the  eyes  of  librarians. 

Letter  to        One  is  glad  to  have  one's  book  (d  propos  of  review 
Henneii,    of  Lewes's  "History  of  Philosophy ")  spoken  well  of 

9th  Nov.  ,      .          ,  . 

1857.  by  papers  of  good  circulation,  because  it  is  possible, 
though  not  certain,  that  such  praise  may  help  the  sale; 
but  otherwise  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  trouble  one's 
self  about  newspaper  reviews,  unless  they  point  out 
some  error,  or  present  that  very  rare  phenomenon,  a 
true  appreciation,  which  is  the  most  delicious  form  in 
which  sympathy  can  reach  one.  So  much  sectarian 
feeling  usually  arises  in  discussions  on  the  subject  of 
phrenology  that  I  confess  the  associations  of  the  word 
are  not  agreeable  to  me.  The  last  refuge  of  intoler- 
ance is  in  not  tolerating  the  intolerant;  and  I  am  often 
in  danger  of  secreting  that  sort  of  venom. 
Charles0  ^  ^s  Peasant  to  have  a  kind  word  now  and  then, 
No^'is5''1  w^en  one  is  no*  near  enough  to  have  a  kind  glance  or 


i857-l  The  Philosophy  of  Necessity.  339 

a  hearty  shake  by  the  hand.     It  is  an  old  weakness  of  Letter  to 

*  Charles 

mine  to  have  no  faith  in  affection  that  does  not  express  Bray,  isth 

Nov.  1857. 

itself;  and  when  friends  take  no  notice  of  me  for  a 
long  while  I  generally  settle  down  into  the  belief  that 
they  have  become  indifferent  or  have  begun  to  dislike 
me.  That  is  not  the  best  mental  constitution;  but  it 
might  be  worse  —  for  I  don't  feel  obliged  to  dislike 
them  in  consequence.  I,  for  one,  ought  not  to  com- 
plain if  people  think  worse  of  me  than  I  deserve,  for  I 
have  very  often  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  my  thoughts 
about  others.  They  almost  always  turn  out  to  be  bet- 
ter than  I  expected — fuller  of  kindness  towards  me  at 
least.  In  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  your  book  (the 
philosophy  of  necessity) — that  mind  presents  itself  un- 
der the  same  conditions  of  invariableness  of  antecedent 
and  consequent  as  all  other  phenomena  (the  only  dif- 
ference being  that  the  true  antecedent  and  consequent 
are  proportionately  difficult  to  discover  as  the  phe- 
nomena are  more  complex) — I  think  you  know  that  I 
agree.  And  every  one  who  knows  what  science  means 
must  also  agree  with  you  that  there  can  be  no  social 
science  without  the  admission  of  that  doctrine.  I  dis- 
like extremely  a  passage  in  which  you  appear  to  con- 
sider the  disregard  of  individuals  as  a  lofty  condition 
of  mind.  My  own  experience  and  development  deep- 
en every  day  my  conviction  that  our  moral  progress 
may  be  measured  by  the  degree  in  which  we  sympathize 
with  individual  suffering  and  individual  joy.  The  fact 
that  in  the  scheme  of  things  we  see  a  constant  and 
tremendous  sacrifice  of  individuals,  is,  it  seems  to  me, 
only  one  of  the  many  proofs  that  urge  upon  us  our  total 
inability  to  find  in  our  own  natures  a  key  to  the  Divine 
mystery.  I  could  more  readily  turn  Christian,  and 
worship  Jesus  again,  than  embrace  a  Theism  which 


34O  The  Position  of  Phrenology.  [RICHMOND, 

Letter  to    professes  to  explain  the  proceedings  of  God.     But  I 

Charles        l 

Bray,  isth  don't  feel  at  all  wise  in  these  matters.     I  have  a  few 

Nov.  1857. 

strong  impressions  which  serve  me  for  my  own  support 
and  guidance,  but  do  not  in  the  least  qualify  me  to 
speak  as  a  theorist. 

Mr.  Lewes  sends  you  his  kind  remembrances,  and 
will  not  like  you  any  the  worse  for  cutting  him  up. 
He  has  had  to  perform  that  office  for  his  own  friends 
sometimes.  I  suppose  phrenology  is  an  open  ques- 
tion, on  which  everybody  has  a  right  to  speak  his  mind. 
Mr.  Lewes,  feeling  the  importance  of  the  subject,  desired 
to  give  it  its  due  place  in  his  "  History  of  Philosophy," 
and,  doing  so,  he  must,  of  course,  say  what  he  believes 
to  be  the  truth,  not  what  other  people  believe  to  be  the 
truth.  If  you  will  show  where  he  is  mistaken,  you 
will  be  doing  him  a  service  as  well  as  phrenology. 
His  arguments  may  be  bad ;  but  I  will  answer  for 
him  that  he  has  not  been  guilty  of  any  intentional  un- 
fairness. With  regard  to  their  system,  phrenologists 
seem  to  me  to  be  animated  by  the  same  sort  of  spirit 
as  that  of  religious  dogmatists,  and  especially  in  this — 
that  in  proportion  as  a  man  approximates  to  their  opin- 
ions without  identifying  himself  with  them,  they  think 
him  offensive  and  contemptible.  It  is  amusing  to  read 
from  the  opposite  side  complaints  against  Mr.  Lewes 
for  giving  too  high  a  position  to  phrenology,  and  a  con- 
fident opinion  that  "  phrenologists,  by  their  ridiculous 
pretensions,  merit  all  the  contempt  that  has  been 
thrown  on  them."  Thus  doctors  differ!  But  I  am 
much  less  interested  in  crusades  for  or  against  phrenol- 
ogy than  in  your  happiness  at  Ivy  Cottage.1  Happi- 
ness means  all  sorts  of  love  and  good  feeling ;  and 

1  The  Brays'  new  house  at  Coventry. 


1857.]  Sunset  Effects.  341 

that  is   the   best   result  that  can  ever  come  out  of  Letter  to 

Charles 

science.     Do  you  know  Buckle's  "  History  of  Civiliza-  B^y.  jsth 

J  '  Nov.  1857. 

tion"?     I  think  you  would  find  it  a  suggestive  book. 

Anniversaries  are  sad  things — to  one  who  has  lived  he-ttecto 

Miss  Sara 

long  and  done  little.     Herbert  Spencer  dined  with  us  He7"!Sn' 

24th  Nov. 

the  other  day — looks  well,  and  is  brimful  of  clever  I%M- 
talk  as  usual.  His  volume  of  "Essays"  is  to  come 
out  soon.  He  is  just  now  on  a  crusade  against  the 
notion  of "  species."  We  are  reading  Harriet  Mar- 
tineau's  history  with  edification,  and  otherwise  feeding 
our  souls,  which  flourish  very  well,  notwithstanding 
November  weather. 

Nov.  28. — A   glorious  day,  still  autumnal  and    not  Journal, 

1857. 

wintry.  We  have  had  a  delicious  walk  in  the  Park, 
and  I  think  the  coloring  of  the  scenery  is  more  beauti- 
ful than  ever.  Many  of  the  oaks  are  still  thickly  cov- 
ered with  leaves  of  a  rich  yellow-brown  ;  the  elms, 
golden  sometimes,  still  with  lingering  patches  of  green. 
On  our  way  to  the  Park  the  view  from  Richmond  hill 
had  a  delicate  blue  mist  over  it,  that  seemed  to  hang 
like  a  veil  before  the  sober  brownish-yellow  of  the  dis- 
tant elms.  As  we  came  home,  the  sun  was  setting 
on  a  fog-bank,  and  we  saw  him  sink  into  that  purple 
ocean — the  orange  and  gold  passing  into  green  above 
the  fog-bank,  the  gold  and  orange  reflected  in  the  river 
in  more  sombre  tints.  The  other  day,  as  we  were  coming 
home  through  the  Park,  after  having  walked  under  a 
sombre,  heavily  clouded  sky,  the  western  sun  shone 
out  from  under  the  curtain,  and  lit  up  the  trees  and 
grass,  thrown  into  relief  on  a  background  of  dark  pur- 
ple cloud.  Then,  as  we  advanced  towards  the  Rich- 
mond end  of  the  Park,  the  level,  reddening  rays  shone 
on  the  dry  fern  and  the  distant  oaks,  and  threw  a  crim- 
son light  on  them.  I  have  especially  enjoyed  this 

IS* 


342  Increase  of  "Clerical  Scenes."  [RICHMOND, 

journal,     autumn,  the  delicious  greenness  of  the  turf,  in  contrast 

*<*57* 

with  the  red  and  yellow  of  the  dying  leaves. 

Dec.  6  (SundtTy). — Finished  the  "  Agamemnon  "  to- 
day. In  the  evenings  of  late  we  have  been  reading 
Harriet  Martineau's  "  Sketch  of  the  British  Empire  in 
India,"  and  are  now  following  it  up  with  Macaulay's 
articles  on  Clive  and  Hastings.  -We  have  lately  read 
Harriet  Martineau's  Introduction  to  the  "  History  of 
the  Peace." 

Dec.  8.  —  I  am  reading  "Die  Familie,"  by  Riehl, 
forming  the  third  volume  of  the  series,  the  two  first  of 
which,  "  Land  und  Volk  "  and  "  Die  Biirgerliche  Ge- 
sellschaft,"  I  reviewed  for  the  Westminster. 

A  letter  from  Blackwood  to-day  tells  us  that  Major 
Blackwood,  during  his  brother's  absence  in  England, 
having  some  reasons,  not  specified,  for  being  more 
hopeful  about  the  "  Clerical  Scenes,"  resolved  to  pub- 
lish 1000  instead  of  750;  and  in  consequence  of  this 
Blackwood  promises  to  pay  me  an  additional  ^60 
when  750  shall  have  been  sold  off.  He  reports  that 
an  elderly  clergyman  has  written  to  him  to  say  that 
"Janet's  Repentance"  is  exquisite — another  vote  to 
register  along  with  that  of  Mrs.  Nutt's  rector,  who 
"cried  over  the  story  like  a  child." 

Dec.  10. — Major  Blackwood  called — an  unaffected, 

agreeable  man.     It  was  evident  to  us,  when  he  had 

only  been  in  the  room  a  few  minutes,  that  he  knew  I 

was  George  Eliot. 

Letter  Lewes  has  read  to  me  your  last  kind  letter,  and  I  am 

to  John  J 

Black-       not  insensible  to  the  "practical  cheerer"  it  contains. 

wood,  nth 

Dec.  1857.  But  I  rejoice  with  trembling  at  the  additional  250,  lest 
you  should  have  to  repent  of  them. 

I  have  certainly  had  a  good  deal  of  encouragement 
to  believe  that  there  are  many  minds,  both  of  the  more 


1857.]  Carlyles  "Friedrich"  343 

cultured  sort  and  of  the  common  novel-reading  class.  Letter 

1  to  John 

likely   to   be    touched   by   my  stories  :  but  the  word  Black- 

J  J          J  )  wood,  nth 

"many  "is  very  elastic,  and  often  shrinks  frightfully  Dec.  1857. 
when  measured  by  a  financial  standard. 

When  one  remembers  how  long  it  was  before  Charles 
Lamb's  Essays  were  known  familiarly  to  any  but  the 
elect  few,  the  very  strongest  assurance  of  merit  or 
originality — supposing  one  so  happy  as  to  have  that 
assurance — could  hardly  do  more  than  give  the  hope 
of  ultimate  recognition. 

Our  affairs  are  very  prosperous  just  now,  making  Letter  to 

.&  Miss  Sara 

sunshine  in  a  shady,  or,  rather,  in  a  foggy  place.     It  is  Henneii, 

i$th  Dec. 

a  great  happiness  to  me  that  Mr.  Lewes  gets  more  and  1857. 
more  of  the  recognition  he  deserves  ;  pleasant  letters 
and  speeches  have  been  very  numerous  lately,  espe- 
cially about  his  "  Sea-side  Studies,"  which  have  ap- 
peared in  Blackwood,  and  are  soon  to  appear — very 
much  improved  and  enlarged — in  a  separate  volume. 
Dear  Carlyle  writes,  a  propos  of  his  "  Friedrich  :"  "  I 
have  had  such  a  fourteen  months  as  was  never  ap- 
pointed me  before  in  this  world  —  sorrow,  darkness, 
and  disgust  my  daily  companions  ;  and  no  outlook  visi- 
ble, except  getting  a  detestable  business  turned  off,  or 
else  being  driven  mad  by  it."  That  is  his  exaggerated 
way  of  speaking  ;  and  writing  is  always  painful  to  him. 
Do  you  know  he  is  sixty-two  !  I  fear  this  will  be  his 
last  book.  Tell  Mr.  Bray  I  am  reading  a  book  of 
Riehl's,  "  The  Family,"  forming  the  sequel  to  his  other 
volumes.  He  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  so  good  a 
writer  agrees  with  him  on  several  points  about  the  oc- 
cupations of  women.  The  book  is  a  good  one ;  and  if 
I  were  in  the  way  of  writing  articles,  I  should  write  one 
on  it.  There  is  so  much  to  read,  and  the  days  are  so 
short !  I  get  more  hungry  for  knowledge  every  day, 


344  Richl's  "Die  Familic"       [RICHMOND, 

Letterto    and  less  able  to  satisfy  my  hunger.     Time  is  like  the 

Miss  Sara 

Hcnneii,    Sibylline  leaves,  getting  more  precious  the  less  there 

i3lh  Dec.  * 

i;<s/-         remains  of  it.     That,  I  believe,  is  the  correct  allusion 

for  a  fine  writer  to  make  on  the  occasion. 
Letter  I  give  up  the  motto,  because  it  struck  you  as  having 

to  John 

been  used  before;  and  though  I  copied  it  into  my  note- 
Dec.  i8S7.  book  when  I  was  re-reading  "Amelia"  a  few  months 
ago,  it  is  one  of  those  obvious  quotations  which  never 
appear  fresh,  though  they  may  actually  be  made  for  the 
first  time. 

I  shall  be  curious  to  know  the  result  of  the  subscrip- 
tion. 

There  are  a  few  persons  to  whom  I  should  like  a 
copy  of  the  volume  to  be  sent,  and  I  enclose  a  list  of 
them. 

journal,  Dec.  i"j. — Read  my  new  story  to  G.  this  evening  as 
far  as  the  end  of  the  third  chapter.  He  praised  it 
highly.  I  have  finished  "  Die  Familie,"  by  Riehl — a 
delightful  book.  I  am  in  the  "  Choephorae  "  now.  In 
the  evenings  we  are  reading  "  History  of  the  Thirty 
Years'  Peace  "  and  BeVanger.  Thoroughly  disappoint- 
ed in  Beranger. 

Dec.  19  (Saturday). — Alone  this  evening  with  very 
thankful,  solemn  thoughts — feeling  the  great  and  un- 
hoped-for blessings  that  have  been  given  me  in  life. 
This  last  year,  especially,  has  been  marked  by  inward 
progress  and  outward  advantages.  In  the  spring 
George's  "  History  of  Philosophy "  appeared  in  the 
new  edition  ;  his  "  Sea-side  Studies  "  have  been  writ- 
ten with  much  enjoyment,  and  met  with  much  admira- 
tion, and  now  they  are  on  the  verge  of  being  published 
with  bright  prospects.  Blackwood  has  also  accepted 
his  "  Physiology  of  Common  Life  ;"  the  "  Goethe  "  has 
passed  into  its  third  German  edition  ;  and,  best  of  all, 


1857.]  Tlie  Year's  Work.  345 

G.'s  head  is  well.    I  have  written  the  "  Scenes  of  Cler-  Journal, 

1857. 
ical  Life  " — my  first  book ;  and  though  we  are  uncertain 

still  whether  it  will  be  a  success  as  a  separate  publica- 
tion, I  have  had  much  sympathy  from  my  readers  in 
Blackwood,  and  feel  a  deep  satisfaction  in  having  done 
a  bit  of  faithful  work  that  will  perhaps  remain,  like* a 
primrose  root  in  the  hedgerow,  and  gladden  and  chasten 
human  hearts  in  years  to  come. 

Buckle's  is  a  book  full  of  suggestive  material,  though  Letter  to 

,  .  .  .    .  .        .  the  Brays, 

there  are  some  strangely  unphilosophic  opinions  mixed  zsd  Dec. 
with  its  hardy  philosophy.  For  example,  he  holds  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  race  or  hereditary  transmission 
of  qualities  !  (I  should  tell  you,  at  the  same  time,  that 
he  is  a  necessitarian  and  a  physiological-psychologist.) 
It  is  only  by  such  negations  as  these  that  he  can  find 
his  way  to  the  position  which  he  maintains  at  great 
length — that  the  progress  of  mankind  is  dependent  en- 
tirely on  the  progress  of  knowledge,  and  that  there  has 
been  no  intrinsically  moral  advance.  However,  he 
presents  that  side  of  the  subject  which  has,  perhaps, 
been  least  adequately  dwelt  on. 

Dec.  25  (Christmas  Day). — George  and  I  spent  this  journal, 
lovely  day  together — lovely  as  a  clear  spring  day.  We 
could  see  Hampstead  from  the  Park  so  distinctly  that 
it  seemed  to  have  suddenly  come  nearer  to  us.     We 
ate  our  turkey  together  in  a  happy  solitude  a  deux. 

Dec.  31  (the  last  night  of  1857). — The  dear  old  year 
is  gone  with  all  its  Weben  and  Streben.  Yet  not  gone 
either;  for  what  I  have  suffered  and  enjoyed  in  it  re- 
mains to  me  an  everlasting  possession  while  my  soul's 
life  remains.  This  time  last  year  I  was  alone,  as  I  am 
now,  and  dear  George  was  at  Vernon  Hill.  I  was 
writing  the  introduction  to  "  Mr.  GilfiPs  Love-Story." 
What  a  world  of  thoughts  and  feelings  since  then  !  My 
'5 


346  Review  of  Year  1857.       [RICHMOND^ 

journal,  life  has  deepened  unspeakably  during  the  last  year :  I 
feel  a  greater  capacity  for  moral  and  intellectual  en- 
joyment, a  more  acute  sense  of  my  deficiencies  in 
the  past,  a  more  solemn  desire  to  be  faithful  to  com- 
ing duties,  than  I  remember  at  any  former  period  of  my 
Ike.  And  my  happiness  has  deepened  too ;  the  bless- 
edness of  a  perfect  love  and  union  grows  daily.  I  have 
had  some  severe  suffering  this  year  from  anxiety  about 
my  sister,  and  what  will  probably  be  a  final  separation 
from  her — there  has  been  no  other  real  trouble.  Few 
women,  I  fear,  have  had  such  reason  as  I  have  to 
think  the  long,  sad  years  of  youth  were  worth  living  for 
the  sake  of  middle  age.  Our  prospects  are  very  bright 
too.  I  am  writing  my  new  novel.  G.  is  full  of  his 
"  Physiology  of  Common  Life."  He  has  just  finished 
editing  Johnston,  for  which  he  is  to  have  100  guineas, 
and  we  have  both  encouragement  to  think  that  our 
books  just  coming  out,"  Sea-side  Studies"  and  "Scenes 
of  Clerical  Life,"  will  be  well  received.  So  good-bye, 
dear  1857  !  May  I  be  able  to  look  back  on  1858  with 
an  equal  consciousness  of  advancement  in  work  and  in 
heart.  

SUMMARY. 

MARCH,  1855,   TO  DECEMBER,  1857. 

Return  to  England — Dover — Bayswater — East  Sheen — Books 
read — Articles  written — Letters  to  MissIIennell — "Life  of  Goethe'1 
— Froude's  article  on  Spinoza — Article -writing  —  "Gumming" 
—8  Park  Shot,  Richmond— Letter  to  Charles  Bray— Effect  of 
article  on  Gumming  —  Letter  to  Miss  Hennell  —  Reading  on 
Physiology  —  Article  on  Heine  —  Review  for  Leader,  etc.  — 
Books  read — Visit  to  Mrs.  Clarke  at  Attleboro — Sale  of  "Life  of 
Goethe  " — "  Shaving  of  Shagpat" — Spinoza's  "  Ethics,"  transla- 
tion finished  —  The  Saturday  Review — Ruskin — Alison — Har- 
riet Martineau  —  Women's  earnings  —  Articles  and  reviews  — 
Wishes  not  to  be  known  as  translator  of  the  "Ethics" — Article 


1855-57-!        Summary  of  Chapter  VIL  347 

on  Young  begun — Visit  to  Ilfracombe — Description — Zoophyte 
hunting  —  Finished  articles  on  Young  and  Riehl  —  Naturalistic 
experience — Delightful  walks  —  Rev.  Mr.  Tugwell — Devonshire 
lanes  and  springs — Tendency  to  scientific  accuracy — Sunsets — 
Cocklewomen  at  Swansea — Letters  to  Miss  Hennell  and  Mrs. 
Peter  Taylor — Tenby — Zoology — Thoreau's  "  Walden  " — Feeling 
strong  in  mind  and  body — Barbara  Leigh  Smith  comes  to  Tenby 
— George  Eliot  anxious  to  begin  her  fiction- writing — Mr.  E.  F.  S. 
1'igott  —  Return  to  Richmond  —  Mr.  Lewes  takes  his  boys  to 
Hofwyl — George  Eliot  writes  article  on  "  Silly  Novels  by  Lady 
Novelists  " — "  How  I  came  to  write  fiction  " — Correspondence 
between  Mr.  Lewes  and  Mr.  John  Blackwood  about  MS.  of 
"  Amos  Barton  " — "  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story  "  begun — Books  read 
— Letter  from  John  Blackwood  to  the  author  of  "  Amos  Barton," 
sending  copy  of  the  January,  1857,  number  of  the  Magazine  and 
fifty  guineas — Reply — Blackwood's  admiration — Albert  Smith's 
appreciation — Letters  to  Blackwood — Name  of  George  Eliot  as- 
sumed— Dutch  school  in  art — Artistic  bent — Letter  to  Miss  Hen- 
nell— Intolerance — Letter  to  John  Blackwood  on  Mr.  Swayne 
comparing  writing  to  Goldsmith's  — Letter  to  Miss  Hennell 
on  essay  "  Christianity  and  Infidelity  "  —  Letter  to  Blackwood 
— Caterina  and  the  dagger  scene — Trip  to  Penzance  and  the  Scilly 
Isles  —  Description  of  St.  Mary's  —  Mr.  Moyle,  the  surgeon — 
Social  Life — Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray,  anxiety  about  sister — Letter  to 
Miss  Sara  Hennell — "  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte  " — Letter  to  Isaac 
P.  Evans — Mrs.  Clarke's  illness — Letter  to  Blackwood — Conclu- 
sions of  stories — Jersey — Description  of  Gorey — Delightful  walks 
— Reading  Draper's  "  Physiology  " — Miss  Catlowand  Dr.  Thom- 
son on  wild-flowers — "Life  of  George  Stephenson" — Letter  to 
Miss  Hennell — Life  in  Jersey — Liggins  appears  on  the  scene — 
"Janet's  Repentance" — Series  attributed  to  Bulwer — Thackeray 
thinks  highly  of  it — Letter  from  Herbert  Spencer  about  "  Mr.  Gil- 
fil  " — Letter  from  Archer  Gurney — Lord  Stanley  thinks  highly 
of  the  "  Scenes  "  —  Letter  to  Blackwood,  with  First  Part  of 
"Janet's  Repentance" — Letter  to  Mrs.  Bray — Richmond — Ex- 
pression of  face — Letter  to  Mrs.  John  Cash — Happiness  in  her 
life  and  hope  in  her  work — Chilled  by  Blackwood's  want  of  en- 
thusiasm about  "Janet  " — Letter  to  John  Blackwood  on  "  Janet " 
— Letter  to  Miss  Sarah  Hennell — "  Aurora  Leigh  " — Return  to 
Richmond — Letter  to  John  Blackwood  on  "Janet" — Letters  to 


348  Summary  of  Chapter  VIL         [1855-57. 

Miss  Hcnnell  —  Rosa  Bonheur — Thought  not  action  —  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Call — Letter  to  John  Blackvvood — Haunted  by  new  story — 
Letter  to  Charles  Bray  —  "The  Woman  Question" — Close  of 
"  Clerical  Scenes  "  series — "  Adam  Bede  "  begun — Receives  £  1 20 
for  first  edition  of  "  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  " — Letter  to  Mrs. 
Bray — Unbelief  in  people's  love — Letter  to  John  Blackvvood — 
Sheets  of  "  Clerical  Scenes  " — Letter  to  Miss  Hennell — News- 
paper criticism — Letter  to  Charles  Bray—"  The  Philosophy  of 
Necessity  " — Sympathy  with  individuals — Objection  to  Theism — 
Phrenology — Happiness  the  best  result  that  can  ever  come  out  of 
science — Letters  to  Miss  Hennell — Reading  Riehl's  "The  Fami- 
ly " — Hunger  for  Knowledge — Buckle's  "  History  of  Civilization  " 
— Autumn  days  at  Richmond — Reading  the  "Agamemnon"— 
Harriett  Martineau's  "  Sketch  of  the  British  Empire  in  India  "— 
Macaulay's  essays  on  Clive  and  Hastings— Major  Blackwood  calls 
and  suspects  identity  of  George  Eliot— Reading  the  "  Choephoros  " 
—"History  of  the  Thirty  Years'  Peace"  and  Beranger— Thank- 
fulness  in  reviewing  experience  of  1857. 


APPENDIX. 


As  this  volume  is  going  through  the  press,  I  have  to 
thank  Mrs.  John  Cash  of  Coventry  for  the  following 
valuable  additional  information  in  regard  to  the  im- 
portant subject  of  Miss  Evans's  change  of  religious  be- 
lief in  1841-42,  and  for  her  further  general  recollections 
of  the  Coventry  period  of  George  Eliot's  life  : 

I  was  sixteen  years  of  age  in  1841  ;  and,  as  I  have 
already  stated,  my  first  remembrance  of  Miss  Evans  is 
of  her  call  on  my  father  and  mother,  with  their  friend 
and  neighbor  Mrs.  Pears,  when  in  conversation  she 
gave  expression  to  her  great  appreciation  of  the  writ- 
ings of  Isaac  Taylor.  The  controversy  raised  by  the 
"Tracts  for  the  Times,"  which  gave  occasion  for  the 
publication  of  Mr.  Taylor's  "  Ancient  Christianity," 
being  now  remote,  I  give  the  following  extract  from  a 
footnote  in  Trench's  "  Notes  on  the  Parables,"  to  show 
the  influence  such  a  work  as  Mr.  Taylor's  would  be 
likely  to  exercise  on  the  mind  of  one  who  esteemed  its 
author ;  and  also  the  feeling  it  excited  against  an  emi- 
nently religious  man,  by  revelations  which  he  desired 
and  believed  would  serve  the  cause  of  New  Testa- 
ment Christianity.  The  note  is  on  the  "Tares."  The 
quotation,  containing  the  reference,  is  from  Menken : 

"Many  so-called  Church  historians  (authors  of'An- 
dcnt  Christianity '  and  the  like\  ignorant  of  the  purpose 
and  of  the  hidden  glory  of  the  Church,  have  their  pleas- 


35O  Appendix. 

ure  in  the  Tares,  and  imagine  themselves  wonderfully 
wise  and  useful  when  out  of  Church  history  (which 
ought  to  be  the  history  of  the  Light  and  the  Truth) 
they  have  made  a  shameful  history  of  error  and  wicked- 
ness." 

It  was  upon  her  first  or  second  interview  with  my 
mother  that  Miss  Evans  told  her  how  shocked  she  had 
been  by  the  apparent  union  of  religious  feeling  with  a 
low  sense  of  morality  among  the  people  in  the  district 
she  visited,  who  were  mostly  Methodists.  She  gave  ar, 
an  instance  the  case  of  a  woman  who,  when  a  falsehood 
was  clearly  brought  home  to  her  by  her  visitors,  said, 
"  She  did  not  feel  that  she  had  grieved  the  Spirit  much." 
Now  those  readers  of  the  letters  to  Miss  Lewis  who 
are  acquainted  with  modern  Evangelicalism,  even  in 
its  "after-glow,"  especially  as  it  was  presented  to  the 
world  by  Church  of  England  teaching  and  practice, 
will  recognize  its  characteristics  in  the  moral  scrupulous- 
ness, the  sense  of  obligation  on  the  part  of  Christians 
to  avoid  the  very  appearance  of  evil,  the  practical  piety, 
which  those  letters  reveal. 

Mrs.  Evans  (Miss  Lewis  tells  me)  was  a  very  serious, 
earnest-minded  woman,  anxiously  concerned  for  the 
moral  and  religious  training  of  her  children  :  glad  to 
place  them  under  the  care  of  such  persons  as  the 
Misses  Franklin,  to  whose  school  a  mother  of  a  differ- 
ent order  objected, on  the  ground  that  "it  was  where 
that  saint  Mary  Ann  Evans  had  been." 

It  is  natural  then  that,  early  awed  by  and  attracted 
towards  beliefs  cherished  by  the  best  persons  she  had 
known,  and  advocated  in  the  best  books  she  had  read, 
the  mind  of  Miss  Evans  should  have  been  stirred  by 
exhibitions  of  a  theoretic  severance  of  religion  from  mo- 
rality, whether  presented  among  the  disciples  of  "An- 


Appendix.  351 

cient  Christianity  "  or  by  the  subjects  of  its  modern 
revivals :  it  is  probable  that  she  may  thereby  have  been 
led,  as  others  have  been,  to  a  reconsideration  of  the 
creeds  of  Christendom,  and  to  further  inquiry  concern- 
ing their  origin. 

On  the  same  grounds  it  is  likely  that  the  presenta- 
tion of  social  virtues,  apart  from  evangelical  motives, 
would  impress  her;  and  I  have  authority  for  stating 
that  to  the  inquiry  of  a  friend  in  after-years,  as  to  what 
influence  she  attributed  the  first  unsettlement  of  her 
orthodox  views,  she  quickly  made  answer  :  "Oh,  Wal- 
ter Scott's."  Now  I  well  remember  her  speaking  to 
me  of  Robert  Hall's  confession  that  he  had  been 
made  unhappy  for  a  week  by  the  reading  of  Miss 
Edgeworth's  Tales,  in  which  useful,  good,  and  pleasant 
lives  are  lived  with  no  reference  to  religious  hopes 
and  fears ;  and  her  drawing  my  attention  to  the  real 
greatness  of  mind  and  sincerity  of  faith  which  this 
candid  confession  betokened.  Such  remarks,  I  think, 
throw  light  upon  the  way  in  which  her  own  evangel- 
ical belief  had  been  affected  by  works  in  which  its 
dogmas  are  not  enforced  as  necessary  springs  of  virtu- 
ous action. 

I  give  these  scattered  reminiscences,  in  evidence  of 
the  half-unconscious  preparation  (of  which  Mr.  Cross 
speaks)  for  a  change  which  was,  in  my  judgment, 
more  gradual  in  its  development,  as  welkas  deeper  in 
its  character,  than  might  be  inferred  from  the  record 
of  its  abrupt  following  upon  Miss  Evans's  introduction 
to  Mr.  Hennell's  "  Inquiry  concerning  the  Origin  of 
Christianity." 

The  evening's  discussion  with  my  father,  to  which  I 
have  referred  in  my  previous  communication  in  the 
;( Life,"  is  now  vividly  present  to  my  mind.  There  was 


352  Appendix. 

| 

not  only  on  her  part  a  vehemence  of  tone,  startling  in 
one  so  quiet,  but  a  crudeness  in  her  objections,  an  ab- 
sence of  proposed  solution  of  difficulties,  which  partly 
distressed  and  partly  pleased  me  (siding  as  I  did 
mentally  with  my  father),  and  which  was  in  strange 
contrast  to  the  satisfied  calm  which  marked  her  sub- 
sequent treatment  of  religious  differences. 

Upon  my  father's  using  an  argument  (common 
enough  in  those  days)  drawn  from  the  present  condi- 
tion of  the  Jews  as  a  fulfilment  of  prophecy,  and  say- 
ing, "If  I  were  tempted  to  doubt  the  truth  of  the 
Bible,  I  should  only  have  to  look  at  a  Jew  to  confirm 
my  faith  in  it."  "Don't  talk  to  me  of  the  Jews!" 
Miss  Evans  retorted,  in  an  irritated  tone ;  "  to  think 
that  they  were  deluded  into  expectations  of  a  tem- 
poral deliverer,  and  then  punished  because  they 
couldn't  understand  that  it  was  a  spiritual  deliverer 
that  was  intended!"  To  something  that  followed 
from  her,  intimating  the  claim  of  creatures  upon  their 
Creator,  my  father  objected,  "  But  we  have  no  claim 
upon  God."  "  No  claim  upon  God !"  she  reiterated 
indignantly;  "we  have  the  strongest  possible  claim 
upon  him." 

I  regret  that  I  can  recall  nothing  more  of  a  conver- 
sation carried  on  for  more  than  two  hours;  but  I 
vividly  remember  how  deeply  Miss  Evans  was  moved, 
and  how,  as^he  stood  against  the  mantelpiece  during 
the  last  part  of  the  time,  her  delicate  fingers,  in  which 
she  held  a  small  piece  of  muslin  on  which  she  was  at 
work,  trembled  with  her  agitation. 

The  impression  allowed  to  remain  upon  the  minds 
of  her  friends,  for  some  time  after  she  had  made 
declaration  of  her  heresies,  was  of  her  being  in  a 
troubled,  unsettled  state.  So  great  were  her  simplicity 


Appendix.  353 

and  candor  in  acknowledging  this,  and  so  apparent 
was  her  earnest  desire  for  truth,  that  no  hesitation  was 
felt  in  asking  her  to  receive  visits  from  persons  of  dif- 
ferent persuasions,  who  were  judged  competent  to 
bring  forward  the  best  arguments  in  favor  of  orthodox 
doctrines.  One  of  these  was  a  Baptist  minister,  intro- 
duced to  her  by  Miss  Franklin  ;  he  was  said  to  be 
well  read  in  divinity,  and  I  remember  him  as  an  orig- 
inal and  interesting  preacher.  After  an  interview 
with  Miss  Evans,  meeting  my  father,  he  said  :  "  That 
young  lady  must  have  had  the  devil  at  her  elbow  to 
suggest  her  doubts,  for  there  was  not  a 'book  that  I 
recommended  to  her  in  support  of  Christian  evidences 
that  she  had  not  read." 

Mr.  Watts,  one  of  the  professors  at  Spring  Hill  Col- 
lege (Independent),  Birmingham,  a  colleague  of  Mr. 
Henry  Rogers,  author  of  the  "  Eclipse  of  Faith,"  and 
who  had  himself  studied  at  the  Halle  University,  and 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Dr.  Tholiick,  was  requested 
(I  think  by  my  mother)  to  call  on  Miss  Evans.  His 
acquaintance  with  German  Rationalism  (rare  in  Eng- 
land in  those  days)  qualified  him  to  enter  into,  and  it 
was  hoped  to  meet,  difficulties  raised  by  a  critical 
study  of  the  New  Testament.  After  his  first  or  second 
interview,  my  brother  remembers  his  observing  with 
emphasis,  "  She  has  gone  into  the  question  ;"  and  I 
can  recall  a  reference  made  by  him  at  a  later  date  in 
my  hearing  to  Miss  Evans's  discontent  with  her  own 
solutions — or  rather  with  her  own  standpoint  at  that 
time.  This  discontent,  he  said,  "  was  so  far  satisfac- 
tory." Doubtless  it  gave  him  hope  of  the  reconver- 
sion of  one  who  had,  as  he  told  my  mother,  awakened 
deep  interest  in  his  own  mind,  as  much  by  the  earnest- 
ness which  characterized  her  inquiries  as  by  her  ex- 
ceptional attainments. 


354  Appendix. 

From  letters  that  passed  between  my  brother  and 
myself  during  his  residence  in  Germany,  I  give  the 
following  extracts  referring  to  this  period. 

The  first  is  from  one  of  mine,  dated  September  2, 
1842: 

"  In  my  father's  absence  we  (my  mother  and  I) 
called  on  Miss  Evans.  She  now  takes  up  a  different 
position.  Her  views  are  not  altogether  altered,  but 
she  says  it  would  be  extreme  arrogance  in  so  young  a 
person  to  suppose  she  had  obtained  yet  any  just  ideas 
of  truth.  She  had  been  reading  Dr.  Tholuck's  reply 
to  Strauss's  '  Life  of  Jesus,'  but  said  Mr.  Watts  had 
advised  her  not  to  read  his  'Guido  and  Julius.'  " 

In  answer  to  this  my  brother  says,  in  a  letter  dated 
Halle',  September  26,  1842,  "You  have  given,  doubt- 
less, a  very  accurate  account  of  Miss  Evans's  mode  of 
stating  her  present  sentiments.  Mr.  Watts's  reason 
for  advising  that  Dr.  Tholuck's  'Guido  and  Julius'  be 
not  read  is,  perhaps,  that  the  reasoning  is  not  satis- 
factory." 

In  another  letter,  addressed  to  my  brother  at  Halle, 
and  dated  October  28,  1842,  I  tell  him:  "Last  week 
mother  and  I  spent  an  evening  with  Miss  Evans. 
She  seemed  more  settled  in  her  views  than  ever,  and 
rests  her  objections  to  Christianity  on  this  ground, 
that  Calvinism  is  Christianity,  and,  this  granted,  that  it 
is  a  religion  based  on  pure  selfishness.  She  occu- 
pied, however,  a  great  part  of  the  time  in  pleading  for 
works  of  imagination,  maintaining  that  they  perform 
an  office  for  the  mind  which  nothing  else  can.  On 
the  mention  of  Shakespeare,  she  praised  him  with 
her  characteristic  ardor,  was  shocked  at  the  idea  that 
mother  should  disapprove  the  perusal  of  his  writings, 
and  quite  distressed  lest,  through  her  influence,  I 


Appendix.  355 

should  be  prevented  from  reading  thetn.  She  could 
be  content  were  she  allowed  no  other  book  than 
Shakespeare ;  and  in  educating  a  child,  this  would  be 
the  first  book  she  would  place  in  its  hands. 

"She  seems  to  have  read  a  great  deal  of  Italian 
literature,  and  speaks  with  rapture  of  Metastasio's 
novels.  She  has  lent  me  'Le  mie  Prigioni'  di  Silvio 
Pellico,  in  his  own  tongue,  as  a  book  to  begin  with. 
She  says  there  is  a  prevailing  but  very  mistaken  idea 
that  Italian  is  an  easy  language,  though  she  is  exceed- 
ingly delighted  with  it.  If  at  any  time  I  wish  to  be- 
gin German,  she  would  very  much  like  to  give  me 
some  instruction." 

In  addition  to  the  above  relating  to  Shakespeare, 
I  recall  the  protest  that  my  mother's  objection  to  his 
plays  (my  mother  had  been  an  ardent  lover  of  "  the 
play  "),  on  the  ground  that  there  were  things  in  them 
that  offended  her,  was  as  reasonable  as  the  objection 
to  walk  in  a  beautiful  garden,  "because  toads  and 
weeds  are  to  be  found  in  it." 

In  a  letter  dated  March  6,  1843,  I  write  to  my 
brother:  "Your  request  that  you  may  be  informed  as 
to  the  precise  nature  of  Miss  Evans's  philosophical 
views  I  shall  find  it  very  difficult  to  comply  with,  in- 
asmuch as  on  our  last  interview  she  did  not  express 
herself  so  fully  on  this  subject  as  formerly ;  indeed,  I 
believe  she  is  not  now  so  desirous  of  controversy. 
She  however  appeared,  to  me  at  least,  to  have  rather 
changed  her  ground  on  some  points.  For  instance, 
she  said  she  considered  Jesus  Christ  as  the  embodi- 
ment of  perfect  love,  and  seemed  to  be  leaning  slight- 
ly to  the  doctrines  of  Carlyle  and  Emerson  when  she 
remarked  that  she  considered  the  Bible  a  revelation 
in  a  certain  sense,  as  she  considered  herself  a  reve- 


356  Appendix. 

lation  of  the  mind  of  Deity,  etc.  She  was  very  anxious 
to  know  if  you  had  heard  Schelling." 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  my  brother  at  Spring  Hill 
College,  and  dated  October  28,  1844,  I  find  this 
reference  to  Dr.  Harris,  who  had  been  preaching  a 
charity  sermon  in  a  chapel  at  Foleshill : 

"  Miss  Evans  has  just  been  reproaching  me  for  not 
informing  her  of  Dr.  Harris's  preaching,  which  she 
would  have  given  anything  to  hear,  as  she  says  his 
'Great  Teacher'  left  more  delightful  impressions  on 
her  mind  than  anything  she  ever  read,  and  is,  she 
thinks,  the  best  book  that  could  be  written  by  a  man 
holding  his  principles." 

In  the  same  letter  I  mention  a  second  lesson  in  Ger- 
man given  me  by  Miss  Evans.  In  one  written  some 
time  before,  I  tell  my  brother  of  her  kind  proposal, 
but  add  that  my  parents  object  "on  account  of  her 
dangerous  sentiments."  She  had,  however,  since  called 
at  our  house  one  morning  to  renew  it :  and  I  well  re- 
member how  eagerly  I  watched  my  mother,  looking  so 
affectionately  at  Miss  Evans,  and  saying  quietly,  "  You 
know,  with  your  superior  intellect,  I  cannot  help  fear- 
ing you  might  influence  Mary,  though  you  might  not 
intend  to  do  so.  But,"  she  went  on  to  say,  "her  father 
does  not  agree  with  me :  he  does  not  see  any  danger, 
and  thinks  we  ought  not  to  refuse,  as  it  is  so  very  kind 
of  you  to  be  willing  to  take  the  trouble — and  we  know 
it  would  be  a  great  advantage  to  her  to  learn  German  ; 
for  she  will  probably  have  to  earn  her  living  by  teach- 
ing." Seeing  at  a  glance  how  matters  stood,  Miss 
Evans  turned  round  quickly  to  me,  and  said,  "Come 
on  Saturday  at  three  o'clock,  and  bring  what  books 
you  have." 

So  I  went,  and  began  "  Don  Carlos,"  continuing  to 


Appendix.  357 

go,  with  some  intervals  occasioned  by  absence,  pretty 
regularly  on  Saturday  afternoons,  for  nearly  two  years  ; 
but  it  was  not  until  the  end  of  the  second  year,  when  1 
received  Miss  Evans's  suggestion  that  the  lessons  were 
no  longer  necessary,  and  should  be  discontinued,  that  I 
fully  realized  what  this  companionship  had  been  to  me. 
The  loss  was  like  the  loss  of  sunshine. 

No  promise  had  been  given  that  my  religious  belief 
should  be  undisturbed,  nor  was  any  needed.  Interest 
was  turned  aside  from  Calvinism  and  Arminianism, 
which  at  an  early  age  had  engaged  my  attention,  tow- 
ards manifestations  of  nobility  of  character,  and  sym- 
pathy with  human  struggles  and  sufferings  under  varied 
conditions.  The  character  of  the  "  Marquis  von  Posa" 
(in  "Don  Carlos")  roused  an  enthusiasm  for  heroism 
and  virtue,  which  it  was  delightful  to  express  to  one 
who  so  fully  shared  it.  Placing  together  one  day  the 
works  of  Schiller,  which  were  in  two  or  three  volumes, 
Miss  Evans  said,  "Oh,  if /had  given  these  to  the  world, 
how  happy  I  should  be  !" 

It  must  have  been  to  confirm  myself  in  my  traditional 
faith  by  confession  of  it,  that  I  once  took  upon  myself 
to  say  to  her  how  sure  I  was  that  there  could  be  no 
true  morality  without  evangelical  belief.  "Oh,  it  is  so, 
is  it?"  she  said,  with  the  kindest  smile,  and  nothing 
further  passed.  From  time  to  time,  however,  her  rev- 
erence and  affection  for  the  character  of  Christ  and  the 
Apostle  Paul,  and  her  sympathy  with  genuine  religious 
feeling,  were  very  clear  to  me.  Expressing  one  clay 
her  horror  of  a  crowd,  she  said,  "  I  never  would  press 
through  one,  unless  it  were  to  see  a  second  Jesus." 
The  words  startled  me — the  conception  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  my  mind  being  so  little  associated  with  a  human 
form  ;  but  they  impressed  me  with  a  certain  reality  of 


358  Appendix. 

feeling  which  I  contrasted,  as  I  did  Miss  Evans's  abid- 
ing interest  in  great  principles,  with  the  somewhat  fac- 
titious and  occasional  as  well  as  fitful  affection  and 
concern  manifest  in  many  whom  I  looked  up  to  as 
"  converted  "  people. 

Once  only  do  I  remember  such  contrast  being  made 
by  herself.  She  attended  the  service  at  the  opening 
of  a  new  church  at  Foleshill,  with  her  father,  and  re- 
marked to  me  the  next  day  that,  looking  at  the  gayly 
dressed  people,  she  could  not  help  thinking  how  much 
easier  life  would  be  to  her,  and  how  much  better  she 
should  stand  in  the  estimation  of  her  neighbors,  if  only 
she  could  take  things  as  they  did,  be  satisfied  with  out- 
side pleasures,  and  conform  to  the  popular  beliefs 
without  any  reflection  or  examination.  Once,  too,  after 
being  in  the  company  of  educated  persons  "  professing 
and  calling  themselves  Christians,"  she  commented  to 
me  on  the  tone  of  conversation,  often  frivolous,  some- 
times ill-natured,  that  seemed  yet  to  excite  in  no  one 
any  sense  of  impropriety. 

It  must  have  been  in  those  early  days  that  she  spoke 
to  me  of  a  visit  from  one  of  her  uncles  in  Derbyshire, 
a  Wesleyan,  and  how  much  she  had  enjoyed  talking 
with  him,  finding  she  could  enter  into  his  feelings  so 
much  better  than  she  had  done  in  past  times,  when 
her  views  seemed  more  in  accordance  with  his  own, 
but  were  really  less  so. 

Among  other  books,  I  remember  the  "  Life  of  Dr. 
Arnold"  interested  her  deeply.  Speaking  of  it  to  me 
one  morning,  she  referred  to  a  conversation  she  had 
had  with  a  friend  the  evening  before,  and  said  they  had 
agreed  that  it  was  a  great  good  for  such  men  to  remain 
within  the  pale  of  orthodoxy,  that  so  they  might  draw 
from  the  old  doctrines  the  best  that  was  to  be  got  from 
them. 


Appendix.  359 

Of  criticisms  on  German  books  read  with  Miss  Evans, 
I  recall  one  or  two.  In  the  "  Robbers,"  she  criticised 
the  attempt  to  enhance  the  horror  of  the  situation  of 
the  abandoned  father,  by  details  of  physical  wretched- 
ness, as  a  mistake  in  Art.  "  Wallenstein  "  she  ranked 
higher  from  an  intellectual  point  of  view  than  any  other 
work  of  Schiller's.  The  talk  of  the  soldiers  in  the 
"Lager"  she  pointed  out  to  me  as  "just  what  it  would 
be."  On  my  faint  response,  "  I  suppose  it  is !"  she 
returned,  "No,  you  do  not  suppose — we  know  these 
things ;"  and  then  gave  me  a  specimen  of  what  might 
be  a  navvy's  talk — "  The  sort  of  thing  such  people  say, 
is, '  I'll  break  off  your  arm,  and  bloody  your  face  with 
the  stump.'" 

Mrs.  Bray  tells  the  following  incident,  as  showing 
her  quick  perception  of  excellence  from  a  new  and  un- 
known source.  "We  were  sitting,"  Mrs.  Bray  says, 
"one  summer  afternoon  on  the  lawn  at  Rosehill,  July, 
1850,  when  Marian  came  running  to  us  from  the  house 
with  the  Leader  newspaper  in  her  hand.  '  Here  is  a 
new  poet  come  into  the  world  !'  she  exclaimed,  and 
sitting  down  with  us  she  read  from  the  Leader  the  poem 
called  '  Hymn,'  signed  M.,  and  ending  with  the  fine 
stanza : 

" '  When  I  have  passed  a  nobler  life  in  sorrow ; 

Have  seen  rude  masses  grow  to  fulgent  spheres ; 
Seen  how  To-day  is  father  of  To-morrow, 
And  how  the  Ages  justify  the  Years, 

I  praise  Thee,  God.' 

"The  'Hymn'  is  now  reprinted  in  Mr.  W.  M.  W. 
Call's  volume  of  collected  poems,  called  '  Golden  His- 
tories.' " 

Kingsley's  "Saint's  Tragedy"  was  not  so  popular 
as  his  other  works,  but  Miss  Evans  was  deeply  moved 


360  Appendix. 

by  it.  Putting  it  into  my  hands  one  morning,  she  said, 
"  There,  read  it — you  will  care  for  it." 

The  "  Life  of  Jean  Paul  Richter,"  published  in  the 
Catholic  Series  (in  which  the  head  of  Christ,  by  De  la 
Roche,  so  dear  to  her,  figures  as  a  vignette),  was  read 
and  talked  of  with  great  interest,  as  was  his  "  Flower, 
Fruit,  and  Thorn  Pieces,"  translated  by  the  late  Mr. 
Edward  Noel  of  Hampstead.  Choice  little  bits  of  hu- 
mor from  the  latter  she  greatly  enjoyed. 

Margaret  Fuller's  "Woman  in  the  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury," I  think  Miss  Evans  gave  to  me.  I  know  it  in- 
terested her,  as  did  Emerson's  "  Essays."  On  his  visit 
to  Coventry,  we  could  not,  unfortunately,  accept  Mr. 
Bray's  kind  invitation  to  meet  him  at  Rosehill ;  but  after 
he  had  left,  Miss  Evans  soon  came  up  kindly  to  give  us 
her  impressions  of  him  while  they  were  fresh  in  her 
memory.  She  told  us  he  had  asked  her  what  had  first 
awakened  her  to  deep  reflection,  and  when  she  an- 
swered, "  Rousseau's  Confessions,"  he  remarked  that 
this  was  very  interesting,  inasmuch  as  Carlyle  had  told 
him  that  very  book  had  had  the  same  effect  upon  his 
mind.  As  /heard  Emerson's  remark  after  his  interviews 
with  Miss  Evans,  it  was,  "  That  young  lady  has  a  calm, 
clear  spirit."  Intercourse,  it  will  be  seen,  was  kept  up 
with  my  family,  otherwise  than  through  the  lessons,  by 
calls,  and  in  little  gatherings  of  friends  in  evenings, 
when  we  were  favored  to  hear  Miss  Evans  sing.  Her 
voice  was  not  strong,  and  I  think  she  preferred  playing 
on  the  piano ;  but  her  low  notes  were  effective,  and 
there  was  always  an  elevation  in  the  rendering. 

As  I  knew  Miss  Evans,  no  one  escaped  her  notice. 
In  her  treatment  of  servants,  for  instance,  she  was  most 
considerate.  "They  come  to  me,"  she  used  to  say, 
"with  all  their  troubles,"  as  indeed  did  her  friends 


Appendix.  361 

generally — sometimes,  she  would  confess,  to  an  extent 
that  quite  oppressed  her.  When  any  object  of  charity 
came  under  her  notice,  and  power  to  help  was  within 
her  reach,  she  was  very  prompt  in  rendering  it.  Our 
servant's  brother  or  sister,  or  both  of  them,  died,  leav- 
ing children  dependent  on  friends  themselves  poor. 
Miss  Evans  at  once  offered  to  provide  clothing  and 
school-fees  for  one  of  these,  a  chubby-faced  little  girl 
four  or  five  years  of  age.  Unexpectedly,  however,  an 
aunt  at  a  distance  proposed  to  adopt  the  child.  I 
recollect  taking  her  to  say  good-bye  to  her  would-be 
benefactress,  and  can  see  her  now,  standing  still  and 
subdued  in  her  black  frock  and  cape,  with  Miss  Evans 
kneeling  down  by  her,  and  saying,  after  giving  her 
some  money,  "  Then  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  else 
we  can  do  for  her." 

My  husband's  mother,  who  w^s  a  member  of  the 
Society  of  Friends,  established,  with  the  help  of  her 
daughters  and  a  few  others  interested,  an  Industrial 
Home  for  girls  about  the  age  of  fourteen.  It  was  in 
the  year  1843,  and  was,  therefore,  one  of  the  first  insti- 
tutions of  the  kind  in  England.  The  model  was  taken 
from  something  of  the  same  order  attempted  by  a 
young  girl  in  France.  The  girls  were,  as  far  as  prac- 
ticable, to  maintain  themselves,  working  under  condi- 
tions of  comfort  and  protection  more  attainable  than 
in  their  own  homes.  The  idea  was  new ;  the  Home 
could  not  be  started  without  funds,  and  my  mother 
undertook  to  collect  for  it  in  her  own  neighborhood. 
In  a  letter  to  me,  written  at  this  time,  she  tells  me  she 
is  "  not  doing  much  to  help  dear  Mrs.  Cash,"  there 
being  "a  prejudice  against  the  scheme;"  but  adds, 
"This  morning  Miss  Evans  called,  and  brought  me 
two  guineas  from  her  father."  I  tell  of  this  as  one 
16 


362  Appendix. 

among  many  indications  of  Miss  Evans's  ever-growing 
zeal  to  serve  humanity  in  a  broader  way,  motived,  as 
she  felt,  by  a  higher  aim  than  what  she  termed  "desire 
to  save  one's  soul  by  making  up  coarse  flannel  for  the 
poor." 

In  these  broad  views — in  this  desire  to  bring  her 
less  advantaged  neighbors  nearer  to  her  own  level,  to 
meet  them  on  common  ground,  to  raise  them  above 
the  liability  to  eleemosynary  charity  —  she  had  Mr. 
Bray's  full  sympathy.  To  me  she  dwelt  frequently 
upon  his  genuine  benevolence,  upon  his  ways  of  ad- 
vancing the  interests  of  the  working  men,  as  being,  in 
her  judgment,  wise  and  good.  She  visited  periodical- 
ly, in  turn  with  Mrs.  Bray,  myself,  and  a  few  others, 
an  infant-school  which  Mr.  Bray  had  helped  to  start ; 
and  although  this  sort  of  work  was  so  little  suited  to 
her,  yet  so  much  did  she  feel  the  duty  of  living  for 
others,  especially  the  less  privileged,  that  one  morning 
she  came  to  Mrs.  Bray,  expressing  strongly  her  desire 
to  help  in  any  work  that  could  be  given  her.  The 
only  thing  that  could  be  thought  of  was  the  illustration 
of  some  lessons  in  Natural  History,  on  sheets  of  card- 
board, needed  then,  when  prints  of  the  kind  were  not 
to  be  procured  for  schools.  The  class  of  animals  to 
be  illustrated  by  Mrs.  Bray  on  the  sheet  taken  by  Miss 
Evans  was  the  "  Rodentias,"  and  at  the  top  a  squirrel 
was  to  figure,  the  which  she  undertook  to  draw.  This 
I  have  seen,  half-finished  —  a  witness  to  the  willing 
mind  ;  proof  that  its  proper  work  lay  otherwhere. 
Lectures  at  the  Mechanics'  Institute  were  matters  of 
great  interest  to  Miss  Evans ;  and  I  remember  the 
pleasure  given  her  by  the  performance  of  the  music  of 
"  Comus,"  with  lecture  by  Professor  Taylor,  at  our  old 
St.  Mary's  Hall.  In  that  hall,  too,  we  heard  the  first 


Appendix.  363 

lecture  on  total  abstinence  that  I  remember  to  have 
heard  in  Coventry,  though  of  "  Temperance  Societies" 
we  knew  something.  The  lecturer  was  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Spencer,  a  clergyman  at  Hinton  Charterhouse,  near 
Bath,  and  uncle  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  Miss  Evans 
was  present  at  the  lecture,  with  Mr.  Bray,  who  told  me 
afterwards  he  had  some  difficulty  in  restraining  her 
from  going  up,  as  soon  as  the  lecture  was  over,  to  take 
the  pledge,  he  thought,  without  due  consideration.  "  I 
felt,"  she  said,  speaking  to  me  afterwards  of  the  lect- 
urer, "  that  he  had  got  hold  of  a  power  for  good  that 
was  of  incalculable  worth." 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  received,  along  with  les- 
sons in  German,  some  "rules  and  lessons  for  life" 
from  Miss  Evans.  One  of  the  first  was  an  injunction 
to  be  accurate,  enforced  with  the  warning  that  the 
tendency  is  to  grow  less  and  less  so  as  we  get  older. 
The  other  was  tolerance.  How  well  I  can  remember 
the  remonstrance,  "  My  dear  child,  the  great  lesson  of 
life  is  tolerance."  In  the  proverb,  "  Live  and  let  live," 
she  saw  a  principle  involved,  harder  to  act  upon,  she 
would  say,  than  the  maxims  of  benevolence — I  think, 
because  bringing  less  credit  with  it. 

The  reading  of  dramas  and  romances  naturally  gives 
rise  to  discussion  of  their  main  theme.  In  treating  of 
love  and  marriage,  Miss  Evans's  feeling  was  so  fine  as 
to  satisfy  a  young  girl  in  her  teens,  with  her  impossible 
ideals.  The  conception  of  the  union  of  two  persons 
by  so  close  a  tie  as  marriage,  without  a  previous  union 
of  minds  as  well  as  hearts,  was  to  her  dreadful.  "  How 
terrible  it  must  be,"  she  once  said  to  me,  "  to  find  one's 
self  tied  to  a  being  whose  limitations  you  could  see, 
and  must  know  were  such  as  to  prevent  your  ever  be- 
ing understood  !"  She  thought  that  though  in  England 


3  (>4  Appendix. 

marriages  were  not  professedly  "  arranged,"  they  were 
so  too  often  practically :  young  people  being  brought 
together,  and  receiving  intimations  that  mutual  interest 
was  desired  and  expected,  were  apt  to  drift  into  con- 
nections on  grounds  not  strong  enough  for  the  wear 
and  tear  of  life ;  and  this,  too,  among  the  middle  as 
well  as  in  the  higher  classes.  After  speaking  of  these 
and  other  facts,  of  how  things  were  and  would  be,  in 
spite  of  likelihood  to  the  contrary,  she  would  end  by 
saying,  playfully,  "  Now,  remember  I  tell  you  this,  and 
I  am  sixty !" 

She  thought  the  stringency  of  laws  rendering  the 
marriage-tie  (at  that  date)  irrevocable,practically  worked 
injuriously;  the  effect  being  "that  many  wives  took 
far  less  pains  to  please  their  husbands  in  behavior  and 
appearance,  because  they  knew  their  own  position  to 
be  invulnerable."  And  at  a  later  time  she  spoke  of 
marriages  on  the  Continent,  where  separations  did  not 
necessarily  involve  discredit,  as  being  very  frequently 
far  happier. 

One  claim,  as  she  regarded  it,  from  equals  to  each 
other  was  this,  the  right  to  hear  from  the  aggrieved, 
"You  have  ill-treated  me;  do  you  not  see  your  con- 
duct is  not  fair,  looked  at  from  my  side  ?"  Such  frank- 
ness would,  she  said,  bring  about  good  understanding 
better  than  reticent  endurance.  Her  own  filial  piety 
was  sufficiently  manifest ;  but  of  the  converse  obliga- 
tion, that  of  the  claim  of  child  upon  parent,  she  was 
wont  to  speak  thus  strongly.  "There  may  be,"  she 
would  say,  "conduct  on  the  part  of  a  parent  which 
should  exonerate  his  child  from  further  obligation  to 
him  ;  but  there  cannot  be  action  conceivable  which 
should  absolve  the  parent  from  obligation  to  serve  his 
child,  seeing  that  for  that  child's  existence  he  is  him- 


Appendix.  365 

self  responsible."  I  did  not  at  the  time  see  the  con- 
nection between  this  view  and  the  change  of  a  funda- 
mental nature  marked  by  Miss  Evans's  earlier  conten- 
tion for  our  "claim  on  God."  The  bearing  of  the 
above  on  orthodox  religion  I  did  not  see.  Some  time 
ago,  however,  I  came  across  this  reflection,  made  by  a 
clergyman  of  the  Broad  Church  school — that  since  the 
claims  of  children  had.  in  the  plea  for  schools,  been 
based  on  the  responsibility  of  parents  towards  them,  a 
higher  principle  had  been  maintained  on  the  platform 
than  was  preached  from  the  pulpit,  as  the  basis  of  the 
popular  theology. 

In  my  previous  communication  in  the  "Life  "  I  have 
already  made  mention  of  Miss  Evans's  sympathy  with 
me  in  my  own  religious  difficulties  ;  and  my  obligations 
to  her  were  deepened  by  her  seconding  my  resolve  to 
acknowledge  how  much  of  the  traditional  belief  had 
fallen  away  from  me  and  left  a  simpler  faith.  In  this 
I  found  her  best  help  when,  as  time  passed  on,  my 
brother  saw  he  could  not  conscientiously  continue  in 
the  calling  he  had  chosen.  As,  however,  his  heresies 
were  not  considered  fatal,  and  he  was  esteemed  by  the 
professors  and  students  of  his  college,  there  was  for 
some  time  hesitation.  In  this  predicament  I  wrote  to 
him,  a  little  favoring  compromise.  My  mother  also 
wrote.  I  took  the  letters  to  Miss  Evans  before  post- 
ing them.  She  read  mine  first,  with  no  remark,  and 
then  began  my  mother's,  reading  until  she  came  upon 
these  words  —  "In  the  meantime,  let  me  entreat  you 
not  to  utter  any  sentiments,  either  in  the  pulpit  or  in 
conversation,  that  you  do  not  believe  to  be  strictly 
true ;"  on  which  she  said,  turning  to  me,  "  Look,  this 
is  the  important  point,  what  your  mother  says  here," 
and  I  immediately  put  my  own  letter  into  the  fire. 


366  Appendix. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?"  she  quickly  said  ;  and  when  I 
answered,  "  You  are  right — my  mother's  letter  is  to  the 
point,  and  that  only  need  go,"  she  nodded  assent,  and, 
keeping  it,  sent  it  enclosed  with  a  few  lines  from  her- 
self. 

I  knew  what  I  had  done  and  so  did  she :  the  giving 
up  of  the  ministry  to  a  young  man  without  other  re- 
sources was  no  light  matter ;  and  as  I  rose  to  go  she 
said,  "These  are  the  tragedies  for  which  the  world 
cares  so  little,  but  which  are  so  much  to  me." 

More  than  twenty  years  elapsed  before  I  had  again 
the  privilege  of  seeing  George  Eliot,  and  that  on  one 
occasion  only,  after  her  final  settlement  in  London.  It 
touched  me  deeply  to  find  how  much  she  had  retained 
of  her  kind  interest  in  all  that  concerned  me  and 
mine,  and  I  remarked  on  this  to  Mr.  Lewes,  who  came 
to  the  door  with  my  daughter  and  myself  at  parting. 
"Wonderful  sympathy,"  I  said.  "Is  it  not?"  said 
he  -,  and  when  I  added,  inquiringly,  "  The  power  lies 
there?"  "Unquestionably  it  does,"  was  his  answer; 
"she  forgets  nothing  that  has  ever  come  within  the 
curl  of  her  eyelash  ;  above  all,  she  forgets  no  one  who 
has  ever  spoken  to  her  one  kind  word." 


END   OF  VOL.  i. 


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